In the Face of Evil
by Historyman101
Summary: Conclusion of the historical fanfic. The Second World War is drawing to a close, but there are agents of a new enemy in a new war dwelling within, with a dangerous plan to bring down America. Can they be stopped? Pairings: RXE DXA HollandXTalho R&R please
1. Chapter 1: The Enemy Within

A/N: This is it. The final installment of the Eureka Seven historical fanfic series. Woot! I guess all of you are probably expecting that they'll be going off to Germany as the war is winding down or something. Well, prepare to be surprised. I should let you all know that they won't be going _anywhere_ in this story. They'll be staying in the United States of God Bless America this time. There will also be some foreign languages spoken extensively throughout this story, especially Russian; I know that probably most of you don't understand the Slavic alphabet so I will write any Russian conversation in phonetic Russian. You should also know that three major characters will not survive the end of this story. As to whom they are, I will leave that to your imaginations and let you find out as you read along. Expect references to the actual anime, some plot twists and sad final goodbyes. The ending will be bittersweet, but it is for a good reason, that I think I have already stated but feel I must state once more:

In the traditional story, the villain is usually defeated and the ending is a happy one. I can make no such promise of the drama you are about to read. The story isn't over. You and the rest of the world we all live in are part of the conflict.

Warning: There are scenes of violence (fighting scenes), use of coarse language and character deaths in this work. You have been warned.**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Eureka Seven. I _wish_ I did so I can make a movie or another season. Maybe even adapt my series for television! 

As the last great war of mankind's bloodiest and most barbaric century draws to a close, a new enemy is arising, in the form of an old ally and a new war is just beginning. When enemy agents are discovered on home soil, the boy, the girl, and their old friends band together one last time to fight what will hopefully be the last battle and defeat what will hopefully be the last evil.

It is a story not just of love and war, bravery and sacrifice. It is a story of espionage, intrigue and the lust for power. It is a story of a boy with a vision, a radical, with extreme views…

…on how to confront evil.

The conclusion of the Eureka Seven historical fanfic series…

**IN THE FACE OF EVIL**

**By Jordan Harms**

**Chapter One: The Enemy Within**

**September 10****th****, 1944**

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest, California**

In the poorly lit room of the hidden base, a group of men and women, all Russian, were called to go over gathered intelligence and to plan out their strategy for how to carry out the new Revolution. They all wore their traditional uniforms: red long-sleeve shirts with the yellow hammer and sickle embedded on the breast pockets and olive green trousers with a red stripe down the side of either leg tucked into tall black boots. The officers wore special red and green caps marking their status and wore epaulets on their shoulders marking their rank. This was business as usual for them, these Red Shirts.

"All intelligence is the same as usual," a blond haired girl spoke, flanked by her four sisters. "The Americans still have no suspicion as to our existence and still hold the belief that the Soviet Union is still a faithful ally. They have no knowledge of the use of slave labor in the gulags for the most part and have no knowledge of the steps Comrade Stalin has taken to improve our Motherland's security."

"It seems to me," one tall black haired mustachioed man spoke, "that all the intelligence points me to believe that now is the time for the uprising."

"Nyet!" a brown haired dark-eyed boy protested. "Now would be the most inopportune time for the uprising! The country is still in the midst of a war, still allied with our Motherland and still building up its armed forces. If we strike now it will be sure to end in defeat, and the alliance between us will be broken! The Soviet Union will be left to fight on its own!"

"You underestimate our strength, Comrade Captain Pavlenko," the mustachioed man replied calmly. "The superior strength and courage of the Soviet soldier will triumph over the crudeness and arrogance of the capitalist Americans!"

"They are still too strong, Comrade Captain Dolgorukhov, and don't forget we still have to defeat the Germans!"

The arguing continued for some time as they all tried to come to an agreement on how to spread the Revolution. They had been in the business of planning this for more than two years, since coming here in the autumn of '42. They had been sent by Moscow to spy on the Americans, and, when the time was right, launch an uprising that would usher in "a new era of Bolshevism in America." They had accomplished much in the last two years. They had captured Russian immigrants and used them as a source of recruitment and slave labor, and local communists and Soviet sympathizers had come to offer their services. They had also brought in personal automobiles for use as impromptu "armored cars". They had been supplied with arms directly from the Kremlin, readying them for the uprising: 3,000 small arms and machine guns, 48 mortars, organized into eight "Oratorio batteries" and, to the surprise of all in the force, three small artillery pieces; leftovers of the First World War. How they managed to get through undetected was amazement to all. The force was able to call itself the "American Red Army," a force of equal quality to their Motherland's army, the Red Army, the force designated by the great Vladimir Lenin to carry out the World Revolution and see the future one world Communist state. That had been their goal since the Revolution in 1917, and they had never once deviated from it. This war they were fighting now with Germany was only a pretext, a mere primer, a Trojan horse for the spreading of Bolshevism until it took over Europe, Asia, Africa, South America…and finally the United States.

As the arguing continued, a door burst open and a grey-haired man wearing a dark green cape and holding a dark brown cane walked calmly in, joining the men and women in the dimly lit room. The gold decorations on his epaulets glinted in the light and his long grey hair, wrapped in a ponytail, seemed to shine as the light reflected and shown through the strands of grey hair. The blue eyes shone with not an ounce of feeling; there was only that glare, that glare that could only be given by a lust for power. At the sight of their commander, the arguing officers stood at attention and saluted. The five sisters all stepped forward and greeted their commander with a salute.

"Good evening, Commissar Novakov," they all said in unison. The grey-haired man, 23 years old, and eldest of the Novakov family, smiled, his eyes glinting in the light.

"Good evening, comrades. Can you all give me the benefit of your collective wisdom?" The sisters looked at each other worriedly. The blonde-haired girl calmly explained, fearing to anger the Commissar.

"It seems we are rather divided on the question, Comrade Commissar. Comrade Dolgorukhov is in favor on coming out from our cover and commence the uprising. Comrade Pavlenko however, believes we should wait until the war in Europe and in the Pacific has ended before proceeding with operations." The Commissar cast a glaring blue eye to Dolgorukhov, the mustachioed man, and Pavlenko, the brown-haired boy. They were virtual opposites of each other; Dolgorukhov was aggressive and assertive, while Pavlenko was cold, calm and calculating. Both good officers, yet such different styles of command! It was only logical that they would clash. The Commissar then turned an icy blue eye to the blonde-haired girl flanked by her four sisters, the chiefs of intelligence.

"And what about you, Ageha A?" Ageha A looked over the reports in her hand one last time.

"Based on the information gathered, we still have the element of strategic surprise. No one knows of our existence, our use of the slave labor and almost all still hold no reservations over being allied with our Soviet Union." The Commissar raised an eyebrow at the word almost. Who could be speaking out against an alliance with the Soviets?! Could this person have found out about us…without us ever knowing?

"Who is it?"

"The boy is called Renton Thurston. He spoke to a church congregation about our gulags in Siberia and the so-called dictatorship that we live in under Stalin. But it was more than two years ago, sir! Besides, there is no indication from our intelligence that he knows anything about us." The Commissar nodded.

"Renton…"

The Commissar mused for a moment, remembering when he first met that young American almost six years ago, when he was allowed to stay with the Novakovs after his ship broke down, long before this great war began. He remembered the shining brown hair, the piercing hazel eyes, and the calm yet commanding tone of his voice. He remembered the war games he took part in, when he chose to lead the children from the other neighborhood against Renton's team. How his brother Holland sided with Renton's team; with Renton, an American capitalist pig! How he suffered defeats at the hand of Renton! The agony of surrendering to him, an American! The bitterness of suffering so many defeats against him, a mere boy, an _American_ boy no less, still clung to him, followed him like a great specter. That boy was always an instigator, the Commissar thought. It's just like him to say something like that. Well. What is an American like him compared any of us? What is he compared to Lenin? What is he compared to the great Comrade Stalin? Nothing. Nothing!

"Tell me more about him. What is his place here?" Ageha A shifted through the intelligence reports.

"Apparently, he's sort of a 'golden boy', as the people around here sometimes say. Most consider him a hero, having gone to Stalingrad and Normandy to protect the friends he has there. There's not much more to him that we have gathered." The Commissar pondered momentarily. Just a boy, he thought. What harm can a mere boy do? He laughed at the thought of him, trying to break in by himself. He would be dead instantly.

"Hmm…he is no threat to us, Comrades. What can a mere boy like him do?" All laughed with their leader as they then switched to the more important business.

"Now then," the Commissar spoke with authority, "back to the uprising." He turned to the tall black haired mustachioed man, Pavel Dolgorukhov. A good soldier, about the same age as he. Reliable, dependable and loyal to the end. When the uprising does come, he thought, Pavel will perform brilliantly. No doubt about it. "Comrade Dolgorukhov, I'm afraid I have to side with Comrade Pavlenko. The time has not yet come; we are still in the middle of a war, if you recall, and we still need to maintain our alliance with the Americans for the time being. An uprising now would do more harm than good; it might break our country's alliance with the Americans." Dolgorukhov furrowed his thick eyebrows and scowled.

"But how long can this go on? We will have to strike sooner or later, Commissar Novakov! What if the military stationed in San Francisco discover us?! What if one of our prisoners has escaped and told someone?!"

"We must wait until the war's end. And I don't take kindly to your abrasive tone, Comrade Dolgorukhov! The war now has reached a critical point. The invasion in Normandy has been completed and it seems the British and Americans are planning to enter Germany through Holland in Operation Market Garden. Most certainly the Germans will be crushed and the war will be over by Christmas."

"Permission to speak Comrade Commissar," Captain Pavlenko spoke up. The Commissar recognized him with an indicative nod.

"Captain."

"Comrade Commissar, what about the Japanese in the Pacific? The Americans will surely need our help defeating them as well."

"Da, Comrade Pavlenko. The Japanese too will undergo the same fate, and once the war is over, and when the Red Army of our Motherland has begun the Revolution in Europe we will rise up and strike here!" Dolgorukhov frowned.

"We cannot stay in the underground forever, comrades. Sooner or later, we must rise up and strike."

"So we shall, Captain Dolgorukhov, so we shall," the Commissar replied, trying to calm Dolgorukhov's restless impatience. Just like him to get his dander up, he thought. "We will launch the uprising and bring the Revolution here, but we must consider when. If we launch an uprising in conjunction with our glorious Red Army in Europe after the fall of the Nazis, the Americans just might see how large a threat we are. We might even force them to come to us! Remember, comrades, that we are only one part of a larger effort by our Motherland to spread the Revolution, and create a new world order. We are cogs in a larger wheel and all the cogs must work together as one for the wheel to move. Remember that, comrades. Always."

"Yes, Comrade Commissar," all returned sternly. One of the Ageha sisters, an auburn-haired girl with pigtails spoke up meekly.

"Sir?" The Commissar turned an icy blue eye to the Ageha sister.

"Yes, Ageha B?"

"That still leaves the question as to what we should do for the time being." The Commissar considered this momentarily. He raised a small knowing smile.

"Forward all the intelligence we have gathered to the Kremlin. Continue to train the men and continue with your recruiting. Keep everything secret. Secrecy is key to this operation, Comrades. No word must get out, under any circumstances. If any prisoner has escaped, go after them! If you find any deserter, shoot him! If you find any traitor, shoot him as well! Kill as many as must be killed, and we will keep our secrecy until I give the order the strike. Understood?" They all clicked their heels and saluted to their commander, the eldest brother of the Novakov family, the man who had been chosen by Stalin himself to lead this mission, the man who would be considered a hero when the great Revolution finally comes.

"Yes, Commissar Novakov!" They chanted as one.

"If there are no other questions, the meeting is concluded." The Commissar raised his right hand, so his arm formed a right angle, and contracted his fingers into a fist. "Glory to the Revolution!"

All repeated this salute and returned, "Glory to the Revolution!"

The Commissar left the dimly lit room and headed back to his quarters and the meeting was concluded. All left with an assured that when the time came for the uprising, the plan would be a success. The same plan concocted by Russian communists less than thirty years ago, in the year of the Great Revolution. The same plan held by the Bolsheviks when they first rose to power after the Revolution in 1917. All the leaders of the Soviet Union had never deviated from the plan since then. Everything was only a pretext. This war was a mere Trojan horse, a tool that would be used to spread the influence of Bolshevism. Through Europe, through Asia, and now to here in America. America, the land of the free and home of the brave. America, the last best hope of man on earth. America, the one nation that was sure to stand in the way of the Soviet Union's diabolical plans. If America fell, all other freedom-loving natures will fall in their stead, and the control of Earth would be in Bolshevik hands. The plan was set and everything ready. All they had to do now was wait. Wait for the time to arise and to strike, strike when their home country does, strike when the time was right and when the enemy least expected.

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A/N: Whew. (wipes sweat off brow) Well, that's the first chap. I wish all of you to know that this is more than just a wrap-up of the whole historical fan fiction series. This is a message, nay, a warning; a warning that all of us must hear and heed. The message of warning will become more apparent throughout your time reading, and the message will be conveyed at the end, when the great drama is done. 

_The boy, the girl and his friends have come home from the invasion, the Great Crusade in Normandy. Now all must try to return to civilian life after being at the front for three months._

**Next time: Return to Normalcy**


	2. Chapter 2: Return to Normalcy

**Chapter Two: Return to Normalcy **

**September 23rd, 1944 **

**Downtown Belleforest, California **

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In the small bedroom of an apartment, two lovers slept peacefully as the autumn dawn started to break over the sleepy valley town of Belleforest…

One was a shaggy jet black-haired eighteen-year-old, a boy who fought alongside the town's hero on the battlefield of the Great Crusade: Normandy. He had seen hell, had been captured and tortured by the Germans, had seen many good men die and go off to join God's Army in Paradise. But even through the hellfire and chaos of war, his will and sense of justice had never wavered, had never been stronger.

Alongside him, hand-in-hand, slept his fiery pink-haired wife, a tender sixteen-year-old. She too had been to that great battlefield, had seen the death and destruction and mutilation, had seen the heroism and bravery of many, and had bore the burden of losing good men with her husband. She, along with her husband, and with the others they fought beside, had seen and had come to know what war could do. She had not wavered, however, in that belief of the final victory, the final triumph of good over evil. That belief that was so important and so vital to the minds of all freedom-loving people.

The black-haired youth stirred and slowly opened his eyes to the sight of the Saturday morning light, streaming through the glass of the window next to their bed. He turned slowly to cast his grey eyes on his beautiful sleeping wife. She looked so natural, so relieved, so peaceful. Even after all the hell and horror of battle in a long war whose end was now in sight, she seemed to be unmindful of the death and sacrifice that takes place around the world every day. He spoke softly.

"Anemone…" She stirred. He hated waking her up when she seemed so comfortable in her state of sleep, but he felt lonely without having her to talk to.

"Anemone, wake up. It's morning." She moaned softly and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze as she muttered his name sleepily.

"Dominic…" The youth smiled. He loved it when she said his name like that.

"Wake up, Anemone. You can't sleep all morning." Anemone stirred again and her eyes fluttered open to see her soldier-husband Dominic, dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt and smiling kindly.

"Good morning, Dominic."

"Good morning, Anemone."

"What time is it?" she asked, yawning. Dominic checked his wristwatch.

"Seven thirty."

"Soldiers always do wake up early, I guess." Dominic chuckled.

"You guess right. I have to go down to San Francisco and do some work at the Presidio. You want to come?" Anemone smiled and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

"I'd love to." Dominic smiled and turned to the window, opening it up and letting the cold autumn air slide into the small bedroom. Anemone rose and stretched her arms as Dominic looked out the window upon the neighborhood.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning. The sun cast a soft light in the pale grey sky as a great fog rolled over the Marin headlands. The skyline was ripe with little plumes of grey smoke coming from the chimneys of the various houses and stores downtown. There wasn't a soul in the streets, at least no one that he could see. The cold air rushed through his hair and it swayed in the breeze, as he looked out on the peaceful sleeping town. He then looked down and saw a column of men marching through the streets, carrying rifles on their shoulders. Ahead of them was a grey-haired goateed man dressed in a dark green overcoat and long olive green trousers.

It was Holland, and the men he was leading through the streets were the men of the local militia, recruited in case of any unexpected surprise attack from the Japanese. One always had to be prepared for the worst in war. One could never play it safe, no matter what news came from the front. They were comprised mostly of recently naturalized Russian immigrants, all refugees of the terrible regime of the Soviet Union, all who had declared their allegiance to the United States, and had sworn to protect the Constitution. They carried an American flag to show their pride and one Russian, a bright blue-eyed brown-haired sixteen year old named Fillipov started to sing an old patriotic Russian tune:

_Onyu cara dorrta pravincyy arrnyy _

_Izhi saka pust' ibi charni _

_Zerka zi matar, garetskoy bulbar, _

_Ist redim ni kafshikh barrbwy vala... _

A few other soldiers soon joined in.

_Bizh nust' na comninatnoy si voyet _

_Cini biryet, cini zhakyet, _

_Chyom naya yuuka genychiistan, _

_Moyt nimar yot nirroman! _

Fillipov called out in Russian for the others to join in, "Rryychitiri!" The call was soon answered by a chorus of Slavic voices, uttering the words Dominic couldn't understand, but could only imagine what they mean.

_Danya panyush zepet snyavoynira _

_Omm niyshvishnoy vana yerta, yerta, _

_Rass virmi moss zemza boyu za bryyt, _

_Sosh sopre slosh zeriit syyt! _

Anemone crept closer to Dominic as he eyed the column of militiamen and wrapped her arms around him lovingly.

"Who's that?" Dominic smiled slyly at her.

"I'll give you three guesses." Anemone laughed and pretended to be in deep thought.

"Is it…Eisenhower?"

"Nope."

"Is it… Renton?"

"Nope, but you're getting warmer."

"Is it… Holland?"

"Correct! You just answered the 64 dollar question!" The two laughed as Anemone looked out the window and heard the soldiers chanting the Russian chorus as they approached their street. "It's the militia, out on their daily march."

"Why do you think they choose Holland to lead?"

"He's a Russian, like they are."

" Renton's a little Russian, too, isn't he?"

"Half-Russian. His mother was a refugee from Siberia."

"He told you?"

"One of the few things he has _ever_ told me."

"Why doesn't he talk about himself that much?"

"Don't know. Maybe it's a Russian thing."

The two of them shrugged as Anemone rose to get dressed. Dominic stayed at the window and listened to the strange song of the Russian militia. He pondered and wondered what those words could mean. Could they tell some story of bravery? Some story of heroism? Of selflessness? Of devotion to the nobler cause? Stories of men fighting for truth, for justice, for goodness? He could only wonder what magnificent stories they must tell. At the third chorus, Dominic whistled down to the soldiers and waved.

Holland looked up and saw his army friend Dominic, perched high in the window of his apartment, waving down to them. He smiled, thinking about all the trials and tribulations they went through in Normandy, the trials and tests that turned them from young boys into men. They had stood strong to the horror of war and stared death in the face, faced it time and again through the horror of battle and they had been turned to men. Holland waved and turned to the men of the militia, his fellow Russian brethren, the men who had chosen him, _him, _because he fought alongside Renton in Normandy. He turned to his men as they came up to the street below the window and called in Russian for the men to halt.

" Rota, stoy!" The men halted and then he ordered a right-face in Russian.

"Naprra-hum!" The men faced the front of the building and stood at attention, perfectly still. He then ordered a present-arms and the militia raised their arms in a salute to Dominic, smiling wide in the window.

"Good morning, Dominic Sorel!" Holland called out in English with his thick Slavic accent.

"Morning, Holland! I was expecting Renton to be leading. Where is he?"

"At home asleep, that poor boy. He has the traveling sickness badly. So does Eureka. Spending three months living by Paris time can really mess up one's internal clock. They've been sleeping all morning!" Dominic chuckled light-heartedly. "I think after what's happened, he really needs it."

"No kidding! He really deserves it, for all he's done. How's his leg?"

"Hurts! Bad! And he won't have any doctor look at it."

"Why not?"

"All he says is, 'I'll survive.' Where are _you_ off to so early in the morning?"

"To the army base in San Francisco for some volunteer work. What about you?"

"Just taking these recruits and training them all day."

"Good luck. Train 'em well! You never know when we might need them!"

"Damn right! Goodbye, Dominic!"

"See you 'round, Holland!" Dominic left the window as Holland turned back to the militia.

"Naleer-hum!" They turned to the left and were now facing down the road. "Shagam…vulsh!" The militia resumed its march down the road and through the town, and Fillipov resumed his singing at Holland's command, "Fillipov! Zertivai!"

Back in the apartment, Dominic had just changed into his traditional military uniform, given to him by the men of the Presidio, when Anemone, still dressing up, showed Dominic a letter, enclosed with a military seal.

"Dominic, some soldier delivered this. He said it was very important." Dominic looked over the note, spying the seal of the United States Army on the envelope. He also spotted who it was from:

_Major Robert Jurgens, United States Army _

_Presidio of San Francisco _

_34 Graham Street_

_San Francisco__, CA 94129_

It was from the garrison commander himself, Major Jurgens, his manager and all-around boss. If it came from him it must be something very important! He quickly and carefully opened up the envelope and pulled out a letter addressed to him. He slowly read it aloud to Anemone:

_Dominic Sorel: _

_In your three years as a civil volunteer here at the Presidio, you have always shown to be loyal, dependable, and assertive. I speak for all here at the Presidio when I say that I consider you the most dedicated volunteer we have ever had here. We, the men and women of the Presidio, have also learned of your excursion to Normandy under Renton Thurston, and have learned that you were highly decorated by our armed forces fighting overseas as well as the other armies of the Allied Expeditionary Force for your actions. In consideration for your gallantry and the blood you have shed in the service of your country, it is my pleasure to grant you the rank of First Lieutenant in the United States Army. You are to report to the Presidio for your first assignment at 0930 hours. _

_Yours, _

_Robert Jurgens _

_Major__, United States__ Army _

Dominic's eyes widened. It was something he had hoped for a long time, but never thought it would actually happen. He was now a member of the United States Army, and an officer at that! He always wanted to go into the army and now, his highest hope was now a reality. He searched through the envelope and found the shoulder insignia of his rank wrapped in cellophane. A pair of silver bars, denoting the rank of First Lieutenant. He showed them to Anemone, who had her hands over her mouth, breathing heavily, eyes wide. He smiled, and Anemone embraced him in an instant, almost light-headed with joy at hearing of Dominic's commission. Her husband was in the army now, serving with the men who fought for freedom everyday.

"That's what I call a pleasant surprise," Dominic said as he ran his fingers through Anemone's bright red hair. "I didn't think for a second I'd get a commission."

"You're qualified, as far as I can see. I wonder if Renton got a commission."

"Even if he did, I don't he think would accept it." Anemone looked confused.

"Why not? He's the one who led us, after all."

"Yeah, but…after all that's happened, I don't think he'll have the stomach to go out and fight again. Not after Normandy." Anemone remembered clearly what she said to Eureka on the train home: none of us will ever be the same. None of us will be all right again. "Anemone, there comes a point in a soldier's life when he loses his charisma and doesn't want to pick up the rifle again. It's that old disease every soldier gets."

"There has to be a name for what it is."

"I heard someone at the Presidio call it 'battle fatigue.' But I think it's way more than that."

"What is it?" Dominic pondered for a moment. There had to be a name for what it was: A general feeling of weariness, of tiredness, of not wanting to take part in anything more. There had to be a name for it. But nothing came to mind. Maybe someday someone would come up with a name for it. But right now, trying to figure out what Renton had was trying to find a needle in a haystack.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. It's a little hard for me; I'm not all that good with words."

"I'll let it slide this time."

She smiled and lightly kissed him, as Dominic pinned the pair of silver bars on both shoulders of his overcoat and the two of them went out to the garage, heading for their two-seater motorcycle. It wasn't the fastest motorcycle in the world, but it would get them to where they had to go. Dominic climbed into the driver's seat and slid on his goggles as Anemone carefully climbed into the passenger's seat. Dominic started up the motor and turned to his wife again, smiling.

"Whatever happens… HOLD ON!"

They sped away and headed for the highway, for the Golden Gate Bridge, where just over the bay lay San Francisco and the Presidio, the base where boys were taught their duties and obligations as men, were trained to be the liberators, the peacekeepers.

»»»»»

**45 minutes later **

**Presidio of San Francisco, California **

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The Presidio was an old fort with enough history behind it for Renton to fall in love with it, if he ever got the chance to work there. The Presidio was originally a Spanish mission fort sited by Juan Bautista de Anza on March 28, 1776, built by a party led by José Joaquín Moraga later that year. It was seized by the U.S. Military in 1846, officially opened in 1848, and was the home to several Army headquarters and units. Several famous U.S. generals, such as William Tecumseh Sherman, George Henry Thomas, and John "Black Jack" Pershing, made their homes here. Importantly to Dominic, it was the assembly point for Army forces that invaded the Philippines in the Spanish American War, the war his great-great grandfather fought in, America's first major military entanglement in the Asia/Pacific region. And lastly, but certainly not the least important, it was the center of defense for the Western United States; the chief coordinating headquarters, deployment center, and training site, as it was for most of its existence.

When Dominic and Anemone first entered the officers' lounge, they were greeted by a crowd of commissioned officers cheering, clapping, whistling, pats on the shoulder as they walked through the lounge and found Major Jurgens, and his secretary and member of the Women's Army Corps, Executive Officer Maria Schneider, sitting behind a desk waiting for them to arrive.

Major Jurgens was a tall brown-haired mustachioed man in his late thirties. He had served with the army in Central America and the Caribbean to protect American interests there, fighting against the ruthless guerillas who wanted to see the Army blasted from the seas. Ever since his promotion to Major, he had been transferred here and had been given the position of garrison commander.

Maria Schneider was his right-hand woman and fiancée, a calm and calculating red-earth-haired woman in her mid twenties. She joined the Women's Army Corps in 1941 after Pearl Harbor and was assigned to the Presidio as secretary and assistant to the Garrison Commander. When asked by the other women if she ever wanted to go and fight in the field, her response always was, "I wish to serve my country in any way possible. If I must serve as an Army secretary, then I will serve my country that way. Every job is important, even if you don't get to see any action." She was content to stay and do paperwork, as long as it helped her country someway, somehow. Of course she would like to fight if she got the chance, but now she was content with her position. "Leave the fighting to the men," as she would sometimes say.

The Major and Maria rose and greeted Dominic and Anemone with a sharp salute, promptly returned by the married couple. The great stories of Renton's journey to Normandy and the stories of all who followed him were told and retold in living rooms, restaurants, cafés, and even the Presidio. The stories of bravery and selflessness, the stories of unbending resolve in the face of horror, of evil, the stories of resourcefulness and calm in battle, and the countless stories of the men who fell alongside him and of the countless dead every day all over the world in this great war were all too familiar to the men of the Presidio.

Jurgens gave Dominic the positions of chief training officer in the Presidio and intelligence officer of domestic affairs. It was now his job to oversee reports of any goings-on inside the borders and to report any suspicious activity to him.

"…and it is now your job, Lieutenant," Major Jurgens addressed them sternly, "to train the men and prepare them for the fight they will face there. Teach them what you learned in Normandy. Teach them well."

"Yes, sir," Dominic returned firmly.

"Your first assignment is to oversee the training of a new company. Get going!" Dominic saluted and promptly walked out the door to train the new recruits on the parade grounds outside the general headquarters, followed closely by Anemone. She loved to see Dominic order about men and yell at the slowpokes and daydreamers. Jurgens smiled and turned to Maria.

"Sir," Maria said hesitantly, "are you quite sure that we should give a commission to one who is so young?"

"Ms. Schneider, he has performed his duty to his country I think more so than any one of us could."

"I never quite understood why he chose to follow Renton."

"Israel Lepinsky phoned me the night of the invasion and said that he was going to make sure Renton came home safely."

"Well. Well. That's what I call loyalty."

»»»»»

Four hours passed. Four hours of nonstop marching, firing, manual of arms, occasional shout-downs of slackers, slowpokes, men who have their heads in the clouds. Seeing Dominic yelling his head off at a new recruit never failed to bring a laugh to Anemone. Dominic. The hard trainer, the drill sergeant, the one who was quick-thinking and intuitive. He now sat at an office desk looking over intelligence reports. There were of course reports of the war in Europe and the Pacific. Things were not going well. The plan to invade Holland, codenamed Operation Market Garden was rapidly going badly. When Dominic read that it was Montgomery's plan, he realized why.

"That limey Montgomery can't plan an operation worth a damn. We saw what disaster Montgomery got us into twice!"

"If an American were at the helm, maybe then it would be different."

"Yeah. If someone like Patton or Bradley was in charge, the plan might turn out different. They know how to fight. Not like those tea-drinkers." Anemone smiled wryly.

"Careful! They're still our allies, y'know."

"That doesn't mean I have to like how they fight! Goddammit! Don't those stupid Brits realize that paratroopers can't hold out by themselves?! And why doesn't XXX Corps get off their asses and continue heading down the road to Arnhem?! Those poor devils now being surrounded. A few more days and they might be cut off from the rest of the army."

"War is composed of nothing but accidents."

"Who said that?" Anemone laughed.

"Napoleon, silly!"

" Renton told you that, didn't he? Which book did he get that from?"

"The book was called _Napoleon's Maxims of War_, I think." Dominic laughed knowingly.

"That egghead. Always with his nose in a book."

"How is he, by the way? Did you see him?"

"No. Holland said he was home in bed with Eureka. They got the traveling sickness. Their internal clock is all screwed up and now they sleep for most of the morning. You don't usually see Renton do that!" The two laughed, as they sat talking away to pass empty time since there weren't many reports to go over.

"Anemone, I don't know about you, but Renton seems to be really down lately. You notice we haven't heard much from him in class? He's gone quiet on us all of a sudden."

"I know what you mean. But then again, losing almost all your friends can really do a lot to someone."

"I guess so, but I dunno. I think our Napoleon has fought his last battle. I don't think he'll want to do something like what we did for a long time. Not after what's happened."

"What're you getting at, Dominic?"

"I just really would like to see Renton cheered up, I guess." They sat in silence for a while, trying to think of some way to cheer him up. Then Anemone beamed. She had something.

"Why don't we stop by his house and say hello? Maybe tell him about your commission?"

"Say, that's a great idea. Now, why I didn't I think of that before?" Anemone giggled as Dominic shifted through more reports, looking over logistics, recruitment records, supply records, trying to see that the base was getting everything it needed.

"Dominic?" He looked up into her kind and blushing face.

"Yes, Anemone?"

"Did you ever ask Renton if he and Eureka were going to have a child?" Dominic stirred, slightly confused.

"No. Why? Have you?"

"No. just crossed my mind. Dominic, did you ever think about maybe starting a family?" Dominic's eyes widened at the thought.

"Anemone…"

"Dominic, when this war is over, I want to have children."

"Anemone, are you sure? It's such a big change."

"I can handle it. That is to say, we can handle it. If we could handle the fighting in Normandy, this kind of thing should be a cakewalk." Dominic lowered his head, wiping the sweat forming on his brow, his face blushing bright red. He always liked the thought but the burning question was when the right time was. Should it be until after the war is over, which will probably be in about six months? Should it be until she's graduated from high school, two years from now?

"Anemone, there's nothing I would like more than to have some kids, but we should probably wait until both of us have graduated from school."

"but that's two years! I couldn't bear it if I had to wait two whole years!"

"It's much better. We won't have school to worry about and I'll be able to pay the expenses with my yearly salary as an officer and I can get a raise at the pharmacy."

Anemone nodded understandingly. He had a good point. She was still a junior and she had only one year to go after all that was done. She wasn't planning on going to college, anyway; she was content with being a wife and mother than having some job which would surely bore her to death. Dominic would be the breadwinner while she took care of the little ones. She was satisfied with that. Besides, having children was worth the wait.

"You're right, Dominic. I'll try and stand it." Dominic smiled.

"I'll help you every step of the way. Just two more years…just two more years…" they laughed as Dominic went back to his work.

The reports were all the same. No signs of German or Japanese spies. Everyone completely behind the war effort. No talk of dissent, or of uprising. Then he came to a report that startled him.

_December 13th, 1942 _

_An organization known as the United Bolshevik Force has been making its base in the forest 30 miles north of Belleforest. Their intentions are unclear as of yet, but it seems that they have an anti-American agenda. From the intelligence and information gathered, they seem to be a radical group intent on spreading Bolshevism. There is no information as to who their leaders are or where their support is coming from, and there is no information as to how they intend to spread Bolshevism. _

Dominic's eyes widened. Renton had warned of something like this once. That time in church when he came back from Stalingrad, two years ago. He warned all about the enemy over the horizon…

_"To Stalin, this is not simply a war against the Germans; this will become a war for world domination. Stalin will not stop at Nazi Germany when the war is over. Stalin will keep expanding until the whole world is united under one red banner…"_

"Anemone, you're not gonna believe what I've just found. Get a load of this." He handed Anemone the paper. She read over it and sat frozen. The worst fears had come. The thing Renton had prophesied was coming true. Anemone turned to Dominic wide-eyed as he was reaching for the phone on his desk.

"Dominic, this is serious!"

"You better believe it's serious!" He dialed a number on the phone and waited for someone to respond. "Officer Schneider, could you call in Major Jurgens? I have some urgent news…yes…it's very important that he hear this. Could he come in as soon as possible? Thank you." Anemone was now frightened at the prospects of possible Soviet spies.

"What are we gonna do, Dominic?"

"That's what I'm calling in Jurgens about! In any case we got to do something." Just then Jurgens came in through the door and sat down, intent on hearing what Dominic had to say.

"What do you have for me?"

"Take a look at this, sir. I just found this as I was shifting through the intelligence reports." Jurgens took the paper and read it with calm and careful eyes, making sure never to miss a word, never leave a sentence misunderstood. Everything had to be perfectly clear.

"Is this it?"

"What do you mean, Major?" Dominic asked confusedly.

"Is there any more information about this that you have found."

"None of the other reports have anything about this. There's no real confirmation sir." Jurgens rubbed his chin as he tried to think. "Permission to speak, Major."

"Lieutenant."

"Sir… Renton once said that something like this might happen. About two years ago, about three weeks after that report was filed, he spoke to us in church and said that the Soviet Union was intent on dominating the world; that one day we would have to fight that nation. He said Stalin won't stop at Germany when the war is over; he'll keep expanding until he as the whole world united under a red banner."

"Then Renton is a very astute young man. You surely know, Lieutenant, that we still have to defeat the Germans and the Japanese. This is a threat, I grant you that, and I'm glad you found this. But quite frankly, Lieutenant Dominic…" He paused and sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It was such a burden to break the bad news to such a good soldier, a dedicated volunteer, and an all-around nice boy. "…if you don't mind my saying so, we got too much on our plate right now. Our military is stretched too damn thin. We can't go around worrying about every little snafu, especially now. I'm sorry, son." Dominic frowned slightly.

"But sir, we have to do _something_."

"Of course we do," Jurgens said knowingly. "But the question is when to deal with it directly. Remember also that we have to keep our alliance with the Soviets for the time being. There could be dire consequences if the alliance broke. If the Soviet Union launches an aggressive movement somewhere in the world and starts the plan of 'world Revolution' after the war is over, then that is the time when we come to this. We have to prioritize, Lieutenant Sorel. Take it from me; I learned it the hard way down in the Caribbean."

"Yes, sir," Dominic said, resigned.

"Lieutenant, you are a dedicated soldier. I think you're one of the best in this outfit. I'm glad you found this; who knows what could have happened if we didn't know?"

"Sir, what should we do about them for the time being?" Jurgens pondered momentarily, trying to think of something. Trust Dominic not to leave any threat untouched, not dealt with. That was what made a good soldier, and a good person.

"For now, I'd say we should just keep an eye on them. Get some more agents working on this, and see what else we can find out about them. No military action can be taken yet, Lieutenant. We still have bigger fish to fry. Remember what I always say: crush the threat staring you in the face first, and then turn your attention to the threat coming up from behind. Understand?" The two rose and saluted each other.

"Yes, sir."

"Carry on." The major left and Dominic and Anemone looked to each other worriedly.

"He has a point, you know," Dominic admitted. "We can't worry about this now. We're still at war with Germany and Japan."

"I guess you're right," Anemone admitted. "But it's kinda hard to believe that the thing Renton predicted is starting to come true…"

»»»»»

Five hours later, Dominic and Anemone were dismissed for the day and allowed to return home. After such harrowing news, one would think that those two wouldn't have it in their hearts to go to Renton's, to tell him the grave news that what he prophesied was coming true.

But they did.

They arrived at his doorstep and immediately ran the doorbell. When it was opened, instead of seeing Renton, they saw Eureka and Holland, looking troubled and not at all happy. Dominic and Anemone hated to see them so sad, and didn't want to sadden them more, but they must know.

"Hello, Holland. Hello, Eureka," They said to them.

"Hello," they returned sullenly.

"Where's Renton?"

"In his room," Eureka said quietly.

"Can we talk to him?"

"Not right now. Something bad has happened."

"Can we come in at least?"

"Of course," Holland said matter-of-factly and showed them in. Dominic and Anemone immediately settled on the sofa and the chair and faced Holland and Eureka, sitting on barstools facing the bar of the kitchen. "What's happened, you two?"

" Holland," Dominic spoke up, thinking he should be the one to say, "first of all, I want to tell the both of you I got a commission as a Lieutenant." The two of them smiled.

"Congratulations," they said in unison.

"Thanks. Secondly, I was at the Presidio today and going over some intelligence reports when I found this." He pulled out a copy of the shocking report form his pocket and showed it Holland. "This is gonna blow you away, Holland." Holland looked over the paper and read it through and through. The expression in his face didn't change. He knew already. After all, he had been witness to it.

"I'm not surprised," Holland said sullenly. "I already know." Dominic and Anemone's eyes widened.

"You know?"

"I was witness to it. I was their prisoner for one and a half years. After Mikhail ratted me out, I escaped from Russia and came here, hoping to get in touch with Renton or Eureka. But then the Red Shirts got me."

"Red Shirts?"

"That's what the prisoners call them. They all wear red shirts as signs of supporters of communism. But anyway, they captured me and used me and hundreds of others as a source of slave labor to build defenses for their base. It's by the grace of God that I managed to get away. Almost no one ever escapes without getting caught."

"There are other prisoners too?"

"Da. There are hundreds. Literally hundreds. Most of them are Russian immigrants who are waiting to get their citizenship or have gotten it already. They're tortured or beaten if they hesitate or resist. We hardly get anything to eat. They're starving us to death. We're not people to them; we're traitors to the Motherland and deserve to be treated as such." Dominic and Anemone shook their heads, trying to comprehend the very nature of what Holland had just conveyed to them. They had a survivor in their midst for three months and they never even asked him of how he came to be here in the Land of the Free. There were dangerous and ill-designing men who wished to replace their democracy. They wanted the Bolshevik doctrine to replace their Constitution.

"If you were planning on telling Renton, you won't have any luck. He won't see anyone. We got some bad news too." Holland grabbed a telegram on the bar and showed it to Dominic. "Read it and you'll see what I mean."

Dominic and Anemone looked over the telegram and saw who it was addressed from: General George C. Marshall, Chief of Staff of the United States Army. A letter addressed from him usually meant that a soldier was dead, wounded, or coming home safely after an honorable discharge.

_Renton__ Thurston: _

_It is with deep regret and sense of sorrow that I report to you that your father Adrock Thurston has been killed in combat while on campaign in Saipan. Your father died bravely in an operation that is key to ending this war. I cannot imagine the pain you must feel right now, but I think that I should first say that your father was a fine man and a fine soldier, who had a strong faith in God, in country and the cause for which millions fight and die for every day. His death will not be in vain, however. His loss, along with the millions of others who die in this war each passing day, will be justified by the future sacrifices of the countless men who risk everything to ensure the security and safety of a future Free World. Your father will not be forgotten for all he has done and he will not be forgotten for giving what Abraham Lincoln once dubbed, "the last full measure of devotion." He fought for his family, for you, and for all his loved ones at home whose only wish is to see the war ending in victory for our Allied Forces. He, and the others like him who have given up everything to preserve freedom in an enslaved world, will not be forgotten, and you, the brave son of a brave man, will not be forgotten either. _

_Yours, _

_General George C. Marshall _

_Chief of Staff__, United States__ Army _

Dominic and Anemone looked to each other and in an instant came to know one more thing that war can do. Renton's father, a kind and honest man, a man who felt strongly about God and country, the man who instilled in Renton the patriotism and extreme bravery he had showed again and again, was now dead. Their hearts went out to Renton, grieving with him in their minds for the loss of his only father, the same man who Renton seemed to be the incarnation of, the man who was the inspiration to Renton to stand and fight the good fight, whenever the chance offered. Dominic turned to Holland, eyes welling up as the sadness continued to build up inside him.

" Holland…Eureka…I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I wish there was something I could do."

"We've done everything one can do and more," Eureka said softly. "We went to Normandy with him, we stuck by him every time we ran into trouble, and I think we carried on a lasting part of his father. We've done more than everything." A tear ran down Dominic and Anemone's cheek, realizing just what Eureka meant. They had given the utmost measure of their devotion, and they returned, battered and weary but unbeaten.

"Will you two tell him that…Anemone and I…are very, very sorry about his loss? Will you tell him that he has our sympathies?"

"We will tell him, Dominic," Holland said firmly. "We will tell him."

"Oh, and Holland?"

"Da?"

"Do you have any more information about the Red Shirts?" Holland blinked. I have that and more to tell, he thought. But now is not the right time. We are still fighting a war with a more dangerous enemy. It had to wait, despite his wanting to tell everything now.

"I do, Dominic. Now isn't really the time, though. We still have a larger enemy to defeat, if you recall. Come back to us when the war is over, and I'll give you all I know."

Dominic and Anemone nodded and headed out the door for their motorcycle, to take them home. They started the engine without saying a word and headed for home, trying to wipe away tears that got in their eyes, overcome with profound grief at Renton's loss. They had woken up that day hoping that today might be a return to normalcy, a return to normal everyday life as a resident of Belleforest, but it was a day that only reinforced that grim fact that there was still a war on, and there were still enemies out to destroy their country. Some things can't be ignored. Some things can't be forgotten.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. School has been such a killer lately. With the way school is going, I ought to tell you that you can be expecting updates only on weekends, meaning only one chapter per week. Just a heads-up. I really appreciate your patience. Here's the preview of the next chapter:

_The soldier and his wife still try to live out a normal life after being home now for four months, but a letter comes to their doorstep that will disrupt their lives forever._

**Next time: A Sad Day To Us**


	3. Chapter 3: A Sad Day to Us

**Chapter Three: A Sad Day to Us **

**December 20th, 1944 **

**Downtown Belleforest, California **

****

Outside the apartment of the soldier and his wife, little boys and little girls played in the snow-covered earth, building snowmen and throwing snowballs at each other, pretending to be the town's great heroes: Renton, the little expedition's leader, a solid hardened veteran; Holland, old iron face; Dominic…what boy wouldn't play at being Dominic? And the brave, brave nurses: Eureka, the sweet, soft-spoken wife of Renton, and Anemone, the fiery-tempered wife of Dominic. As children played, Dominic and Anemone watched from the window of their apartment, decorated for Christmas. There were garlands, ribbons, trimmings, trappings, and a small Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with lights and ornaments. Dominic and Anemone sat quietly on the sofa, nestled in each other's arms, listening to the Christmas carols on the radio and to the laughter of children, sipping two bottles of Coke.

A lot had changed in the past four months. Eureka had turned 15 in November and Anemone had turned 17 in the first weeks of December. Renton and Eureka (unbeknownst to them) agreed to set aside the conceiving of their child for after her sixteenth birthday, one year after he graduated from high school. Besides that, there was no good news; the news of the war had not been good. Operation Market Garden had failed on the 24th of September and the road to Germany through Holland was closed. A German counteroffensive had been launched in the Ardennes Forest four days before today. A fierce battle was now being fought over the German/Belgian border, a battle that would go down in history as the Battle of the Bulge, a battle that would be the bloodiest ever fought by the United States Army.

Dominic and Anemone walked over to the window to look down on the children playing in the snow, for a lack of something to do and to try and get away from the depressing news of the current battle in the Ardennes. There was a snowball fight going on their very doorstep. Timmy Garnett, the 12 year old boy who idolized Renton, was leading a group of boys and girls in an attempt to recreate a battle that Renton and the others had fought in Normandy: Carentan. Timmy's friends had made trenches out of snow and had plenty of snowballs to go around. Another band of children were camped on the other side of the front yard of the apartment complex, pretending to be the Germans. They would advance in extended line, just as the Germans had done on that day in June when Renton had been wounded by shrapnel, that day that would later earn him the Silver Star, that day when Holland and Renton made their brave charge that would earn Holland the Bronze Star, that day when they all proved themselves in battle so valiantly, so bravely, so gallantly.

The "Germans" began advancing and were immediately pummeled by snowballs as they came on, and just as they reached the place they really were in that fight, less than 100 yards away, Dominic and Anemone saw two familiar figures walking through the snow-covered streets and to the front of their apartment: Renton and Eureka.

Renton was dressed in a dark grey overcoat, tall black snowshoes, a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck and black gloves. He walked unsteadily, leaning on his cane, that cane that he had used to help him walk ever since he was wounded in left leg in Paris. The bullet had been removed from his leg, but his wound had left an unsightly scar, and he always walked with a limp. Helping him along was his wife Eureka, wearing a wool white and blue dress, a pair of tall white snowshoes, a blue neck warmer, white gloves and a gold hairclip. She held her husband's hand tightly as she tried to help him walk. The instant the children saw him, they all ran to him. Timmy, Maurice, Maeter, Linck, all of them running to him, a great stampede of cattle. They crowded around him and his wife, tugging at their coat sleeves, jumping up and down, all talking at once. They all idolized him, eager for just a few words of praise, or an even greater honor: an affectionate yank on the ear, or a pat on the cheek. He greeted them all with a nuzzling, a mussing of the hair, a pinch of the cheek. All saying good things Dominic and Anemone could only imagine. "How are you feeling, Renton?" "How's your leg?" "Tell us about what happened in Caen!" "What happened in the woods?" "What did you see?" The same questions told again and again, and the same answers told again and again. It was a ritual Renton didn't mind performing, a ritual Eureka didn't mind bearing, simply because they loved them. They loved them like their own children. This was one of the few times anyone had ever seen them. Renton and Eureka were barely seen outside for many a week, mostly because Renton's leg pained him, and Eureka stood by to tend to him, and help him with his pain. He rejected meetings with the members of the press, and it was told that he had to chase photographers off his property by firing his Springfield rifle into the air, his soldier's blood boiling. The couple in the window laughed at the thought. Dominic and Anemone smiled to each other, seeing the kindness in their dear friends on this cold winter's day, and seeing them out of the house for the first time in weeks. Dominic called down to him.

"Good morning, chief!" Renton and Eureka and the children looked up to see their friends, and smiled at the sight of them.

"Good morning, Dominic," Renton called as best he could, leaning on his cane.

"How's your leg?"

"Hurts!" He and Eureka and the children returned.

"We can have a doctor look at it if you want."

"I'll survive," he said plainly.

"This is the first time we've seen you two outside in days!" Dominic and Anemone called to the both of them.

"You know me, Dominic. I'm not the kind that socializes much."

"Nor I," Eureka concurred, grasping Renton's hand.

"What's the occasion?"

"Just going down to the Safeway to get some things." Dominic and Anemone smiled.

"Planning on having a nice Christmas dinner?"

"Just a small one; nothing big."

"You wouldn't be interested in joining us for Christmas dinner, would you?" Renton and Eureka smiled at each other, as all the children looked to them. "We certainly would like to have you two."

"Sure, Dominic. We'll be there." There was a small cheer from the children and Timmy called out to Dominic.

"Hey, can I come too, Mr. Sorel?"

"What about me?" Maurice joined in.

"Yeah, and me?" Maeter said in support.

"And me?" Linck gurgled.

Soon all the children were gathering around Renton and Eureka to see if there was room for them in the Christmas dinner. Dominic and Anemone laughed to each other and motioned for all the children to settle down.

"You all can come, but the trouble is we don't have enough food to go around. Do you kids think you'll settle for some of Anemone's Christmas cookies?" All the children cheered at the thought of Anemone's famous sugar cookies, always made to form Christmas trees, or snowmen or snowflakes, always covered with red or green icing. Anemone smiled at Dominic and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek as they turned down to the children all crowding around the young married couple. They gathered around him, drawn by some magnet, little children listening to a wise old sage speaking about all the trials and tribulations of his time in Normandy, of all the battles, of all the feelings. The young couple smiled as they saw the children crowd around him and his wife as he told his old stories.

"Mr. Thurston," young Timmy asked, "did you ever think about going into the military, like Mr. Sorel has?" Renton and Eureka smiled at the young boy as Renton contemplated the question.

"I have given it some thought, yes," Renton said sagely. "But…I'm not sure. After Normandy, I don't I'd have the stomach to go out and kill again." Timmy and the others nodded. "War is a terrible thing, kids. Terrible. It ought to never happen."

"Why does it happen?" Maurice, Maeter and Linck asked together. Renton and Eureka looked to each other, mouths parted, eyes widened at the question. Renton pursed his lips and furrowed his brow slightly. They spoke to each other through their eyes and faces. They nodded in unison. The kids should know, they thought. Renton knelt down as best he could without bending his left leg, leaning on his cane, coming to eye level with all the young bright faces of the little children.

"Kids, war happens for a lot of reasons. It's something none of us want, but we're usually forced into it. It's mostly because two or more groups of people don't like each other and so one of them goes out and tries to kill the other. War usually happens for that reason. And it's up to people like me or Mr. Sorel to go out and stop it from happening."

"Papa Renton," Linck gurgled, "why do some people not like us?" Renton sighed and smiled wistfully at the little child, patting him on the head. So innocent, so naïve, so many questions. If only there were no war, so maybe these children could live in peace!

"You know, Linck…I don't really know. I don't see any reason why some people hate us. Some people don't like us for our values, or for the way our government works, or for our beliefs, or sometimes they just hate us because they need something to hate. They just need a scapegoat to cast out their problems or their aggressions on. You know, a lot of kids just like you guys in other parts of the world are told and taught to hate us." Maeter and Linck and other children covered their mouths and gasped.

"That's terrible!" They all said.

"It is. It is terrible. Kids, I want you to remember something: the worst crime anyone can do is to teach someone to hate. No other crime comes close to that. Hate is never born in you; it is taught by someone else. Remember that kids. Don't forget it."

"We won't," they all said, shaking their heads. Renton smiled and rose, helped up by Eureka.

"Well…it's about time me and Mama Eureka got going to Safeway. You kids be good now and have a merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Papa Renton. Merry Christmas, Mama Eureka." Renton and Eureka smiled and they all patted the children on their heads before walking away to get their Christmas dinner, which would be small but satisfactory for them. The children waved them goodbye and soon got back to their snowball fight, pretending to be the great heroes that fought for liberty and against tyranny and persecution. Dominic and Anemone waved them goodbye and then turned to each other again.

" Renton would make a great father, wouldn't he?" Dominic said, smiling

"He sure would. And Eureka could make a great mother. Did Renton ever say when he and Eureka were planning to have their child?"

"He didn't say. Knowing him, though, he'd probably wait until after graduation, or maybe later than that." Anemone rolled her eyes, smiling.

"He's so _practical_…" Dominic crossed his arms and eyed her, smiling wryly.

"One has to set dates for where and when…" Anemone giggled and mussed his hair, engaging in a playful tussle until they were down on the sofa. Their tussle transformed to hugging and kissing, heavy breathing, as they reveled in their love for each other. They regained their composure and sat up, fixing their hair and readjusting their shirts. A knock came at the door.

"Should I get it?" Anemone offered.

"No. You stay and relax. I'll take care of it."

He rose and walked to the door. Probably a message from Jurgens or Schneider, informing him of special business at the Presidio, he thought. Just a note of Merry Christmas most likely. He opened the door and he found Seizo, a young corporal in line for making sergeant from the Presidio who always assisted him in training the men. He saluted his superior and Dominic returned.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Sorel."

"Good morning, Corporal Seizo. The only time we ever see each other is on the parade grounds. What's the occasion?"

"A message for you, sir. From General Marshall." Dominic's eyes widened. Any letter meant uncertain news.

"Err…thanks, Corporal." He took the message and read over the address.

"How are things with you, Lieutenant?"

"All quiet and all hectic at the same time as usual."

"I nearly got snowballed by those kids outside. It looks like they're playing some war-game. Dominic smiled.

"You better believe it. Recreating the battle of Carentan."

"Battle of what, sir?"

"Carentan. In Normandy." Seizo still didn't quite understand. "Me and Renton and Holland fought there." Seizo nodded in understanding. There was a slight silence as Dominic opened the letter, sighing heavily to see what news there was of his father, off fighting with the 101st Airborne in Bastogne, Belgium.

"I'll see you back at the barracks in a few weeks, sir. Have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year."

"You too, Corporal. Take care." Seizo nodded and shut the door, leaving Dominic to read the letter.

"Who was it?" Anemone asked.

"Corporal Seizo. He has a message from General Marshall. It's definitely something about Father."

"Is he finally coming home?"

"I'm just about to find out." He slowly read the first lines. His eyes widened as he gasped and fainted, falling to the ground.

"DOMINIC!" She ran to him and tended to him on the floor. She picked up the note and read the lines slowly.

_Lt. Dominic Sorel: _

_It is with deep regret and sadness that I must report to you that your father, Captain Roger Sorel of the 101st Airborne Division has been killed in combat while on campaign in Bastogne, Belgium. Your father died bravely in an operation that is key to ending this war in the European Theater. I cannot imagine the pain you must feel right now, but I think that I should first say that your father was a fine man and a fine officer, who had a strong faith in Almighty God, in his country and the cause for which millions like him fight and die every day. His death will not be in vain; I can assure you of that. His loss, along with the thousands of others who die in this war day after day, will be justified by the future sacrifices of your fellow comrades in arms overseas who risk everything to ensure the security and safety of a future Free World. Your father will not be forgotten for all he has done and he will not be forgotten for the utmost sacrifice and devotion to the cause for liberty. I don't think it is my place to say, but your father fought and died for you, his family, and for all his loved ones at home whose only wish is to see the war ending in sound victory for our Allied Forces. He, and the others like him who have given up everything to preserve freedom in an enslaved world, be remembered and kept alive in our hearts and prayers, and you, the brave son of a brave man, and a dedicated officer of our armed forces, will be remembered also. Keep well, Lieutenant Sorel, and may God bless you and your family and loved ones. _

_Yours, _

_General George C. Marshall _

_Chief of Staff__, United States__ Army _

Anemone's eyes widened and Dominic, recovered from his brief faint, nestled in Anemone's lap, crying softly.

"My father…"

"Dominic…nothing will ever replace your father, but the others fighting with him can justify his sacrifice." A slight silence ensued before Dominic brought his head, looking up into Anemone's caring eyes, crying his heart out to her.

"Why? Why do men feel they can justify death?" Anemone said nothing. She blinked, trying to figure out the question that had been posed by her soldier-husband. "Is it arrogance, or…disillusionment, or…?" He said nothing more. He was at a complete loss of words. "Anemone, I have long dreaded that my fears and sins would come back to haunt me. The cost is more than I can bear." He hid his head in her lap and Anemone caressed him gently, trying to calm him down, as she started to join with him and weep. Not just for his father. Not just for the friends he lost overseas in Normandy. Not for his old chief, Renton. They cried for an afflicted mankind, a mankind that seemed to be rotting away by dangerous and ill-designing men, whose only desire was power…power as an end unto itself, men who were willing to throw away liberty and the sacredness of life itself to gain power.

"A man once said that into the hands of America, God has placed the future of an afflicted mankind. Sometimes I wonder if all the blood that is shed for mankind is really worth it."

"We'll get through this together, Dominic. Just as we always have gotten through everything. Remember what you always used to tell me when this war started: stay the course. Don't turn and run from your duties, not when God needs us most. I'll roll up my sleeves and we'll tackle this together, Dominic."

"Do you swear it?"

"I swear it."

They sealed their promise with a soft kiss, vowing that this loss, devastating though it may be, will not let it get to them. Don't give up, not when victory seems so assured. Not now. Not when our country needs us the most. After all, what would Roger Sorel say if they chose to throw in the towel now?

* * *

A/N: Wow. First Renton's dad, now Dominic's. Just to clarify, the two fathers are not two of the three major characters that will be dead by the end of this story. The three will be friends we have known from throughout this series. I will not say who. Anyway, here's a preview of the next chapter:

_It had now been eight months since the boy, the girl and his friends have returned home. The boy and the soldier have lost their fathers, casualties of the last great war, whose end was now in sight. But one bright day at school, all receive news that provokes celebration, and the soldier tells the boy the deadly secret he has found. The worst fears of the boy are realized. _

**Next time: Celebration and Lamentation **


	4. Chapter 4: Celebration and Lamentation

**Chapter Four: Celebration and Lamentation **

**May 8th, 1945 **

**Belleforest****, California**

Much had happened since December. The Battle of the Bulge ended on January 16th, 1945 with a resounding victory for the Allies. The British, Americans began pushing into Germany in March with Operation Plunder, crossing the Rhine. The Allied High Command allowed the Soviet Red Army to carry out the final battle in Berlin, which had begun on April 16th, to the utter disgust and outrage of Renton, Holland, Dominic, and the others. They knew that letting the Soviets take control of Berlin, along with eastern Germany and indeed all of Eastern Europe itself, would mean a division of Germany and the very division of Europe itself into Soviet-sponsored and Soviet-backed communist countries in the east and democratic countries in the west. The beginning of the Soviet campaign to dominate the world. Nothing could be done though. History was doomed to follow its deadly and ominous course.

Now it is spring. All they could do now was wait. Wait for all their diligence, bravery and sacrifice to pay off at long last. All wait for the good news. All wait for the end. All wait for the German surrender. All wait for peace, peace at last, peace after seven long and bloody years, peace after losing friends and family. Peace at last.

The bright morning sun shone through the single window of the bedroom. On a small white cot, two people slept peacefully, wrapped in each other's arms.

One was a boy with brown hair, wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and boxers, eighteen. The face was more of a man's now; there was a slight shadow around his mouth, early signs of a mustache. A thatch of brown hair hung in his face, covering his eyes slightly. Much had happened to him in two years. He went to Russia one last time at sixteen, to help his friends at Stalingrad as the bloody battle was being waged in the streets of the city he had come to know during his childhood. He had saved the girl who was his best friend in that dreaded nation, the Soviet Union, and had fallen in love with her. He went to Normandy at eighteen, followed by his fiancée, her brother, and two of his friends to help old friends he had left behind. He fought through the fields of Normandy to the streets of Paris, but had lost all of his French friends along the way. He was wed to the young girl he had saved. He was at sixteen a nobody, an ordinary citizen in a sleepy valley town. But by eighteen, when he and his friends and wife came home from the Great Crusade, he was a hero. A hero to all in Belleforest and around all of Marin and San Francisco.

He opened his hazel eyes slowly to the dawn of the spring sun, the smile of God. The first sight was his darling wife.

She was now fifteen, but still just as beautiful as she was when she was thirteen, when he took her away from her despotic home country and brought her here, making her a citizen of his country. Her long earth brown hair fell over her shoulders and to the mattress of the bed, rich and fertile soil cast against white cold snow. The face remained the face of a child, the same face that he had known for six years and had come to love. He smiled softly rethinking on all they had been through together. They had escaped the clutches of the evil Soviet Union. They had returned to America and he gave her citizenship, what she always wanted. They had survived the hellfire and chaos of war in Normandy, fighting alongside each other for their friends, for truth, for liberty, for justice, for each other. They returned home, married, battered, pushed to the limit of devotion, and had refused to jump ship. That was what made a hero.

He turned and looked at the clock on his nightstand. Six fifteen in the morning. He had to get to school by seven thirty if he wanted to have time in the library to study for finals. He quietly rose from bed, not waking his wife and, before he went to take his shower, kissed his wife lightly on the cheek. He didn't want to wake her from her state of peace, and, knowing her and all that had happened, she'd probably sleep until late in the morning. He quietly walked out of the room and shut the door behind him, and went straight to his bathroom.

After a fifteen minute shower, he got dressed. It was mildly hot that day and so he put on a long-sleeve white dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. He wore his traditional grey knickerbockers with red suspenders and black socks to match his all-purpose Oxford shoes. He grabbed his books and tucked them in his knapsack, the same knapsack he used to carry his food and supplies in Normandy. After grabbing his brown flat cap off the coat rack and his walking cane he headed out the door and started down the road to school, passing the sign he and Holland had put up at his house to ward off reporters and all members of the press, reading:

**NO INTERVIEWS, NO PHOTOGRAPHS, NO QUESTIONS, NO KIDDING! **

He had taken this same path every day from his house for the last four years, since he was fourteen. He always managed to get to school with usually half an hour to spare. He was a good student, had a straight "A" average for four whole years now, and it was rumored that after high school he might go off to college and maybe end up in the War Department in Washington…or at least, that's what most thought he would do. He had other plans, however. After finishing high school, he would continue working as a clerk at the pharmacy, maybe ask for a raise that would help him support the family he was planning to have. After all that had happened to him, he wasn't in the mood for any more wild adventures. He was content to live a quiet married life with his wife and brother and brother-in-law, free from the paparazzi and the press. He once thought of applying for the military as a strategy consultant and analyst, but dropped the idea. After seeing what war could do, he wasn't sure if he had the stomach to serve.

He reached the school at seven thirty according to his pocket watch and headed straight for the library, never looking at anyone. He quickly grabbed a book without thinking and started to read. The finals would be in one month and he had to squeeze in any time possible to study. When all saw him, whenever he entered a room, or whenever he simply walked through the halls and through the campus, all were silent, all eyes at him, and they never took their eyes off him. Immediately he raised his head and saw all those faces staring at him, wide-eyed, grateful and proud that they went to school with the town's hero. He cleared his throat and frowned slightly.

"It's rude to stare…" All quickly turned away and went back to their individual businesses. He continued reading, his mind focused on the finals coming in June, the month of his graduation, when he could finally live a private life.

"Hello, Renton," said a voice from somewhere behind him. He turned around and found Jane, smiling and holding a book in her hands. She looked the same as she did when she first met him those two long years ago. The same golden blonde hair, the same deep ocean blue eyes, the pink ribbon in her hair, the blue skirt that swayed as she walked. He and she had long put aside what had happened that evening in the diner and had been in contact again. Anyone can hold a grudge, but it takes real courage to forgive. She seated herself next to him and quietly spoke in that royal British accent he was so accustomed to hearing.

"Have you heard the rumor?"

"No," he said, his eyes not leaving his book. "Good news is it?"

"Oh, I should say so. The Germans are going to surrender. The war in Europe will finally be over."

"We will have won one battle, but the war has not ended. We still have to defeat the Japanese, if you recall."

"Yes, I know. But Japan can't last much longer." There was a slight silence. "I haven't seen you outside your house for a long time. I barely saw you during Easter vacation."

"Damn reporters. I don't like to go out 'cause they always find me somehow and always want an interview. 'Do you have a statement for the press?' 'Is it true you and your French resistance members mutinied against the British High Command in Caen?' 'How many Germans did you kill?' Over and over and over again, the same questions. It's driving me insane. God, don't you wish people would just leave you alone sometimes?"

"Sometimes having many friends can be troublesome," she said chuckling.

"Well, getting back to the rumor, hearsay is never true. Gossip never gives fact. Remember that, Jane." She nodded slowly, trying not to fire him up. Ever since Normandy, he hadn't been talkative and, some would say, a bit antisocial. He was usually found in a dark corner of the school where no one ever goes, alone, reading something or just sitting staring off into space, contemplating some great truth none knew. "I'll believe the rumor when I hear something happen." Just then the bell rang and they walked together to their first class, hoping maybe today that rumor would come true and the long war which had cost Renton so much would come to an end. Maybe today the Germans will surrender. Maybe today.

»»»»»

No news had come, and hours had now passed. He sat alone in the cafeteria/recreation room, listening to all the chatter of his fellow students and the slow tune of a piano in the corner. Renton was always seen by himself most of the time now, and whenever he was seen with his friends, he hardly ever spoke, unless spoken to. He looked out, on all the people speaking, a great cacophony of noise and talk, gossip, hearsay, chit-chat. He hadn't spoken much, simply because he had no desire to talk to anyone, not after what he had seen in Normandy, and he had absolutely no desire to talk about what happened there. The scars had not yet faded away. The memories had not yet faded. Some memories can't be forgotten. Some scars can't be erased. Some things stay for life. Dominic was right, a thousand times right: no one will ever know what he went through, or what he could and couldn't do. No one would ever be able to understand what he had seen, what he had participated in, what he had lost. If they had been there, it would be different.

"Poor soul," Donald lamented as he heard some of the stories about him from the others.

"He lost all of his friends over there," Moondoggie continued to explain, the light reflecting off his horn-rimmed glasses. "He's really been through hell."

"You'll never know he's been through, or what he is or is not capable of," said a voice from behind them. "He's better than us, fellas. He's better than me, he's better than many people here, certainly many I know. He always has been, and always will be." Moondoggie and Donald all turned around to find Dominic, dressed his traditional military uniform with his garrison cover cocked to one side on his head, and his wife Anemone, wearing her orange and white dress, bright red hair flowing down to the small of her back. They wore serious faces, with lamentation written all over, joining their long-suffering friend isolated by himself.

"Dominic Sorel…" Moondoggie said matter-of-factly. "I was expecting you to say something like that."

"That's Lieutenant Sorel to you," Dominic said sternly, smiling lightly as he and his wife sat down with Renton's "old gang", as they were often called. "He carries a sin with him, everywhere he goes."

"Sin?" all asked in bewilderment.

"The sin of killing. The sin that he couldn't protect them."

"God will forgive him, Lieutenant," Donald spoke sagely, the cross on his necklace dangling. "He, and you as well, Lieutenant, are peacemakers. God will smile always on those who fight to bring peace."

"God can grant him absolution," Moondoggie responded, "but the mere thought of the sin can stay. One does not recover from such devastating loss easily."

"He'll get over it in time," Anemone said, the usual smile on her face banished, replaced by a tightly pursed mouth. "He's never backed down when faced with a challenge. He'll overcome it, just like he has everything else."

They talked on for a while as all tried to tackle the enigma of Renton. What caused him to change so? Will he ever recover? Is the old Renton we all knew and loved gone for good? Some questions had answers, but not all. Whatever answer was given, one thing was clear. He would never be the same again. Not after what's happened. Anemone had been right: no one could be all right after something like that. They were consumed in the discussion when Matthieu, the laughing charismatic friend of Renton who always had a smile on his face, burst through the door with a newspaper in his hands, jumping up and down, whistling, cheering, yelling.

"War's over, fellas!" Everyone cheered and yelled, tossing their caps in the air and grabbing each other. That is, except Donald, Moondoggie, Dominic and Anemone. They all stood up at the news and Dominic walked over to him.

"What's that you're holding? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Didn't you hear!?" He showed him the paper that said in big bold letters on the headlines: **GERMANY**** QUITS! **"I just finished reading it! The German Army's surrendered to the Allies! The war's over in Europe!" Dominic just stood wide-eyed as all the other students rose up and cheered, in absolute joy and relief that at long last the war in Europe had ended. The Nazis, the long-time enemy and chief leader of the Axis of evil, were finished, the government in ruins, the armies defeated, and victory, after four long bloody years since Pearl Harbor, finally achieved. As all cheered and whooped and yelled, Dominic turned and saw Renton, alone, sitting on the sill of the windows, looking on all cheering and celebrating with a wistful smile. The Germans may have lost but who was the real victor?

Dominic smiled and immediately walked over to him, showing him the newspaper that bore the wondrous news.

"I guess the thing we've all been waiting for has finally come," Dominic said smiling at his old chief. Renton smiled wistfully and shook his head. Behind this victory was a bitter defeat.

"Yes. It is great news, isn't it? But…who really won?" Dominic's eyes widened and the smile on his face was cast away. He knew exactly what he meant. "Surely you must know, Lieutenant." Dominic nodded slowly. If anyone was the victor, it was not the freedom of mankind. Behind the capitulation of one evil, there were the gathering clouds of another. "Dominic…do you know how to play the piano, by any chance?" Dominic raised an eyebrow at the strange question.

"A little, yes."

"I have an idea. Can you play the Battle Hymn of the Republic?"

"I can try." Renton smiled and patted him on the shoulder. Dominic took a seat at the empty piano and Renton looked to an empty chair, where a violin sat with a bow alongside it. He picked it up slowly and tucked the violin under his neck, being as careful as possible. He had learned to play the violin when he was young, taught by his own father, and he was considered to be quite good. He brought the bow to a string and turned to Dominic, smiling and gave an indicative nod.

Then, slow music of a piano and violin filled the whole cafeteria as all turned to see Renton and Dominic playing a slow patriotic tune, one that dated back to the Civil War, one that served as a rallying cry for all Union soldiers fighting for the freedom of the slaves, a rallying cry for all who fought for life and liberty. All eyes were fixed on Renton and Dominic, playing that slow if not sad tune. The wondrous sound was short lived, as after only two minutes, Renton played the last chords of his favorite tune and set the violin down, back as he had found it. He looked up, staring back at all the young faces, who simply eyed him, the town's hero. How fitting that he, the one who went to Normandy, the one who went to Stalingrad, be the one who plays the last happy note to commemorate this fine day, the day of victory at long last. He said nothing but only breathed a quiet sigh, as all in the cafeteria applauded, one by one, clapping for him, for the deed which seemed to neatly sum up all that had happened in the last four years, and bring a final close to what had been the most costly war of this, mankind's bloodiest and most barbaric century.

The bell rang and all started to their next classes, wishing of course that this joyous moment could last forever. But things aren't as simple as that.

»»»»»

The day was finished and all were heading home, walking through the halls out onto the green to head home down the streets. Renton walked on weakly through the halls, limping on his cane, with Dominic close behind, with a copy of the note in hand. That note. The same incriminating note, the note that affirmed Renton's worst fears. That note with the deadly secret. This was hardly the day, but all the same, he had to know. It was the crystallization of what Renton had predicted, the very confirmation of the war just over the horizon. He had to know. Not just for his own sake. Not for the sake of Holland, or Dominic. But for the sake of all. For the sake of an endangered mankind. They had passed on to the green and soon Dominic tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and smiled tiredly.

"Yes, Dominic? What is it, my friend?" he asked with an elderly tone in his voice.

"Y'know, Renton, this isn't quite the right time to say this, but…"

"What is it?"

"Last September, while I was at the Presidio, I was shifting through some intelligence reports and I found this." He extended his hand holding the note. " Renton, you're not going to like what you read."

"It can't be as bad as what has happened to us." Prepare to be surprised, Dominic thought as Renton took the note. He slowly read it, through and through and his jaw dropped, and his eyes widened, gasping. The worst fears had been realized. The new enemy was here, and growing. The beast was on the move once again.

"It's worse," he said ominously.

"Remember that time in church when you told us about Stalin's real intentions behind this war? Well, you were right. A thousand times right. And this proves it." He looked up and stared Dominic in the face, mouth parted, eyes wide with disbelief and a sense of doom. The very thing Renton had prophesied was starting to come true. One had fallen only to be replaced by another. This was just the beginning.

"Our worst fears have been realized, Lieutenant. This is the beginning of a new war."

"It pains me to say it, but you're right, Renton. And I don't know what to do. No one in the Presidio thinks we should confront it now. They say we have to defeat Germany and Japan first."

"I'm sorry, Dominic, but I have to agree with them. We still have Japan left, and even they can't last out much longer; they'll surrender, too. I'm grateful you found this, Dominic. I shudder to think what could've happened if this had not been found." Dominic blinked and asked that old question he always asked in Normandy, when he served under him.

"What should we do, chief?" Renton released the breath he was holding and tried to calmly think, talking out his thoughts to Dominic.

"Well, for starters, we ought to get some people together, try and start something to combat this. Dominic…when school ends, and when we graduate, I need you to call everyone you know together and tell them to meet at my house so we can discuss this further. I'll do the same. Is there any more information you have about this?"

" Holland was held prisoner by them. You can get some information from him." Renton's eyes widened when he mentioned Holland's name. He remembered in an instant what Holland said to him and Eureka when he was found by them:

_"I tried to find you. I wandered for days. The Red Shirts wouldn't let me go!"_

Could these spies be the "Red Shirts" that Holland was talking about? All this time, he had a prisoner, a survivor living with him and Eureka, and he never knew. He never even got the chance to ask! All this time, he could've known about them in advance and perhaps even persuade some people to do something!

" Holland..." he whispered.

" Renton, is there anything we can do now?" Renton paused, still trying to soak in all the information that was coming at him. Soviet spies. Red Shirts. Prisoners. And he never knew.

"No. We can't do anything until Japan surrenders. We'll need the Soviets' help with that."

"But how long can it go on?"

"Not too long. Not too long. We're practically knocking on Japan's doorstep right now, and if we invade the mainland, they'll have to surrender sooner or later. The most we can do now is to try to get something going against this." Dominic nodded sagely. He was right. Until Japan surrendered, there was not much they could do. They still needed to keep an alliance with the Soviets until Japan was defeated. Once that was out of the way, however, they could proceed with confronting this threat.

"I really get tired of being the hero all the time," Renton said sagely, leaning on his cane. "I'm getting far too old for this, Lieutenant. But…if we must, we must. It's only for the good of a free mankind. Wouldn't you say so, Dominic?"

"Yessir, chief. For the good of all, right?"

"For the good of all. Go home, Dominic, and when the time comes, make the calls. Everyone needs to know this, but the time has to be just right."

They nodded and walked their separate paths, heading for their different homes and contemplating what must be done. Every evil is replaced with another. Every tyrant replaced with a new one. But they were only different forms of the beast. The beast, whose only goals were control of the state and power. Power as an end unto itself. Power, pure and unadulterated. Power as a mean and an end. Power. The same thing that all evil men want.

* * *

A/N: The threat has now been unmasked, but the time to act has not yet come. The fruit is not yet ripe. Now we're really getting deep. Here's a preview of the next chapter. 

_One day, before the time of gathering, and after the graduation, the boy confronts his old friend from the Motherland, and he learns the back-story and the true nature of the agents of the beast._

**Next time: Truth **


	5. Chapter 5: Truth

**Chapter Five: Truth **

**June 13th, 1945 **

**Belleforest****, California******

Graduation had passed, and all except Anemone were finally out of high school. Renton had turned 19 along with Holland a few days earlier, and Dominic would be 19 by July. Renton slept quietly in an armchair, an open book in his hands, titled _The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire_, one of the many history books taken from his shelf. Eureka slept on the sofa with a book of her own, given to her by Renton: _These Honored Dead: A Comprehensive History of the American Civil War_. At the bar of the kitchen, sipping a small glass of vodka he had gotten from the cellar sat a grey-haired blue-eyed goateed man. The one who helped Renton and Eureka escape. The one who was held prisoner by the Red Shirts. The closest friend from Russia Renton had. Renton's brother-in-law, Holland.

The thoughts he had were ones of that girl with the short black hair and brown eyes. The girl he left behind in Red shirt prison camp. That girl with the strange flower-shaped birthmark on her cheek. Talho Yukieva. What horrors had she seen in the two years since he escaped? What had they done to her? What plans did those scoundrels have? He already knew that by now, they were in the primary stages of launching an uprising, spreading the Revolution as was long intended by the Bolsheviks.

Bolsheviks. The mere mention of that name made him seethe with anger. The Bolsheviks, the Russian communists led by that murderer Lenin, the man who killed hundreds of thousands if not millions who dissented from his views in the horrible Red Terror. The Bolsheviks, whose only goal was power over mankind, over the whole world, even if it meant throwing away innocent lives and stamping out liberty. The Bolsheviks, murderers and traitors to their own people.

He already learned that Renton had read the note Dominic had found, and he had already told Eureka the whole story, much to her shock and chagrin. Why couldn't people just leave us alone? Why is it that one evil had to be replaced with another? Why do people want to hurt us and see us dead? The only answer was the lust for power. The one goal that the beast never strayed from. Control of the state and power. Power as an end unto itself.

The only Holland hadn't told was Renton. He would ask soon enough and they would start something to combat this. A chance to try the resistance over again. They had to fight it. Not just for Talho, and the others left to the Red Shirts. For the sake of a free mankind, and to keep this country from going asunder and becoming another Soviet Union. Maybe even make an example, show the people of America what was the evil they had to fight against.

Renton stirred, groaning softly as he woke, placing his book on a coffee table, smiling at Holland. Holland, about his age, his brother-in-law and one of the only people from old Mother Russia he could call friend. Holland smiled tiredly and motioned for Renton to sit next to him. He rose as best he could, limping across to the bar, pulling up a stool next to his old friend from the Motherland. He eyed the bottle of vodka and the small empty glass standing on the bar.

"Where'd you get that?" he inquired with raised eyebrows. Holland smiled wryly.

"Wouldn't you like to know? I got it down from the cellar. You know, Renton, your father has the best collection of vodka I have found yet!" He laughed softly as he poured a glass and offered it to Renton. "If your father can drink, so can you, my friend."

"You already know I don't drink, Holland!" Renton said laughing.

"If we are old enough to kill Germans, we are old enough to drink." Renton hesitantly took the glass and put it to his lips.

"Well, if you say so." He sipped it and immediately coughed hard. Too strong, burning, like a great flame had been lit on his throat. "I'll never get used to it. Never, Holland!" Holland laughed hard as he poured a glass for himself and drank. They sat for a while just staring out the window of the kitchen, looking out on the neighborhood. The neighborhood, indeed the whole town and the whole state, was sleeping, unknowing of the threat growing, spreading in their midst. Holland was waiting for him to ask. He would have to, since Dominic had already given him the basic information. It was only a matter of time before he asked. Holland held all the key information that would be essential in understanding them. As the first rule of war states, "know thine enemy."

"Dominic told me something the day the Germans surrendered," Renton said sullenly, staring out the window. "It's not good news at all." Holland remained silent. He knew what he was going to say next. "It's a dreadful discovery, although I'm not at all surprised it's happening." He turned to his old friend and looked him in the face, stabbing Holland's very heart and soul with those piercing green eyes of his. Those eyes that never failed to leave one entranced. Those eyes that seemed to see through all. "Soviet spies are now operating in California. This is the beginning of a new war. The war we have all feared." Holland blinked, staring back right into Renton's tired old face. "Dominic said something else. He told me you were held prisoner by them. Is that true, Holland?"

Holland sighed and took another drink from his glass of vodka.

"I wish it weren't, but it is." Renton's eyes widened, breathing heavily.

"Why didn't I ask sooner?" he scolded himself under his breath.

"Even if I told you earlier, there wouldn't have been anything we could do." Renton sighed and shook his head sullenly, sadly acknowledging that fact, painful though it was.

" Holland, what can you tell me about them? We need to know everything we can."

"You're not going to like what you hear, Renton. Are you sure you really want to know?"

"All I want is the truth, Holland. Nothing more can be known but that." Holland sighed. Truth can hurt, but it was the only way anything can be known.

"After Mikhail had ratted me out, and after the resistance had been destroyed, I escaped across the border with one of the last fake passports we had. I was hoping on getting American citizenship and then making contact with either you or Eureka or anyone else who might be here. But shortly after the ship carrying immigrants landed in San Francisco harbor, the Red Shirts captured me and a bunch of others."

"Red Shirts?" Renton asked confusedly. "The people who you said wouldn't let you go when we found you?"

"Da. They're officially known as the United Bolshevik Force, but they're called Red Shirts by the prisoners for their uniforms. They wear red shirts as a sign that they are supporters of communism. Anyway, they captured me and used me and hundreds of others as a source of slave labor to build defenses for their base. I was held prisoner for one and a half years."

"There are others, too?"

"Hundreds of prisoners. Literally hundreds, if not thousands. They're mostly Russian immigrants who are either in line waiting to get their citizenship or have already gotten it. We're not real Russians to them. We're tortured or beaten if we hesitate or resist. We hardly get anything to eat. They're starving us to death. We're not people to them; we're traitors to the Motherland and deserve to be treated as such. It's really by God's grace that I managed to escape."

"Some of the others _must_ get away."

"They caught one boy, about fifteen, trying to run away while I was there. Sascha (A/N: pronunciation: Sasha) was his name. When they were finished with him, the skin was torn off both of his shoulders, worse than one of mine. He was lucky he wasn't killed. There was another one. A dark-haired girl named Talho Yukieva. I couldn't have escaped without her help."

"Why didn't she go with you?"

"She said she wouldn't go without the others."

"Then there _are_ some who might be persuaded to leave?"

"Oh, of course," Holland said knowingly, sipping from his glass. "But you could never get them out of the camps."

"Well _you_ got out."

"That's only because Lord God sent one of his great messengers. I was running away through the woods and two Red Shirt guards were sent after me. I had crossed a railroad line and then I heard a whistle, a rumble and two snaps behind me. I turned around and the Red Shirts were gone. I didn't see what happened to them; it must've cut them down. Let me show you something, Renton." He rolled up the sleeve of his white long-sleeved shirt and exposed what looked to be a scar on his forearm. The scar had two parallel lines drawn all around the arm in the style of a ring. On top of the two lines sat a large triangle. The mark looked like it had been cut into his flesh by a knife. Renton's eyes widened at the sight of the scar.

"What is it?"

"They did it to me. It's an identification mark. It tells you when you can be outside the prison compound."

"What do you mean? Who's to stop you?"

"The guards…and their Commissar."

"Who is he?"

"Who he is may shock you. In fact, I hesitate to tell you." Renton leaned in closer and looked straight at Holland with his piercing green eyes.

"I want the truth." Holland sighed and took a nervous drink of vodka. This was going to be hard, breaking the horrible news of just who was behind this diabolical scheme. It was heartbreaking, for him especially, but Renton had to know.

"My eldest brother…and our former opponent in our little games of 'soldier'…Dewey." Renton gasped, his eyes wide, jaw dropped.

"D…d…Dewey?"

"Da," Holland said matter-of-factly. It was terrible yet true. "Apparently Stalin himself picked Dewey over Vladimir to carry out this mission. He was given the rank of Commissar shortly after the Germans invaded Russia, and then sent here as the Germans were closing on Stalingrad. He would've outranked Vladimir he had stayed in Russia."

"Dewey…"

Renton remembered Dewey plainly. Those cold blue eyes, that long grey hair that was always wrapped in a ponytail, that horrible glare he always had, the cold and unfeeling tone of his voice. The eldest brother of the Novakov family, the one Renton, Holland, Vladimir, Eureka and the rest of them always fought against in the war games during Renton's time in Russia before the war was the leader of this scheme! It was impossible! Improbable! Incomprehensible! And yet it was so true. Holland was right. Truth can hurt.

"I don't think even you or I can match up to him now, Renton. Under Dewey are captains, each one in charge of a prison sector. If anyone is found outside the compound at the wrong time, they take you before Dewey for punishment. Some are even sent back to Russia and left in the gulags in Siberia."

"Is that all?" Holland shook his head ominously, knowing that the greatest truth was even more shocking; the fact of their goal, their objective since they came…and by what means they will carry it out.

"Nyet. Far from it. They are building an army. New recruits fresh from the old Motherland are sent here across the Pacific by boat. Sometimes they use the captured immigrants and force them to serve. Also they recruit Soviet sympathizers and local communists. They've been supplied with arms directly from the Kremlin."

"If they're building up an army here," Renton said sagely with the old commander-like tone in his voice, "they must want something from us. The only question is what." Holland put his hand on his shoulder and sighed heavily. Now came the ultimate and most unspeakable of truths.

"What they want, Renton…is revolution." Renton's eyes widened at that ominous word. In an instant the goal was clear.

"Spread World Revolution…" he said ominously, the words flowing out of his mouth without thinking, "…by attacking the free democratic countries of the world. It's 1917 all over again."

"I hate to say it, Renton, but you're right. It's the same objective as held by the Bolsheviks in Moscow." Renton turned away and looked down at the bar, thinking over everything. It was 1917 all over again. The same plan. The same goal. The same people. History was repeating itself.

"World Revolution…and a one-world communist state. And we're the only nation that stands in their way."

"Da. If we fall, the rest of the Free World falls with us. Then…God help us."

"Yes. God help us." There was a short bout of silence, as all sat basked in the information, the horrible incriminating information that seemed so unbelievable, so improbable, and yet so true. And there was no one to stop them, that is…

"Unless…" Renton began. Holland turned to him quietly, his blue eyes glinting. Holland thought, what's he going to say now? What in the devil is he going to say?

"Unless we take a stand," Renton finished. Holland's eyes widened.

" Renton…could you repeat that? There was something crazy in my ear."

"If we stand up and do something, maybe they can be stopped." Holland could not believe what he just heard. Was he serious!? Take on the Red Shirts, who are growing stronger by the day? Take on the Red Shirts, whose numbers must be in the thousands? It was a death sentence. It was madness.

" Renton, that's suicide! They'll most likely launch the uprising after Japan is defeated and when Russia has invaded Eastern Europe. And Japan could fall any day now."

"Da, it is crazy. But it's our only chance," he said in a low voice. "If no one stands up and says no, then everything we have achieved and everything and everyone we hold dear are lost."

"I've been with the Red Shirts, Renton, and I tell you: you're making a bad mistake that'll very likely get us all killed."

" Holland…moj drug (A/N: Russian for "my friend"), you were once the head of a whole resistance. You told me that the consequences for resistance didn't matter to you; the only thing that mattered was fighting and defeating evil. Holland, try to imagine what might happen if something is not done."

Holland thought and the images came to him in quick lightning flashes. He closed his eyes…and it was awful. Lynching. Firing squads. Prison camps. Back to the gulags in Siberia. Talho would be killed. He would be killed. Eureka would be killed. Dominic and Anemone would be killed. Renton would be killed. America would fall.

All those consequences were enough. Besides, if they fought the Red Shirts, it might make an example to the American people, and the rest of the world, and show the evil they had to fight against. Holland was right all those years ago. Consequences shouldn't matter. What should matter is doing what is right. He turned to Renton, looking into those weary piercing green eyes with his blue. There in front of him was an old solider, a boy who would rather see peace than go out and fight again, but will defend to the last what is right and just. He smiled, feeling privileged to have such a compassionate, devoted and upstanding boy for a friend.

Thank you, Lord, that I have Renton as my friend.

"Boy, Renton, you sure know how to get to someone." Renton smiled tiredly.

"Will you help me then, moj drug?"

"You know the answer, Renton. I only want to depose evil." Renton smiled. Holland could be counted on. Always. Just like the good friend that he was and always had been.

"Spasibo (A/N: Russian for thank you), Holland. Everything will be resolved by battle's end."

"I should warn you, Renton, that the Red Shirts have a very large force. I estimate that they have at least 3,000 men."

"Numbers don't win wars, Holland."

"Nyet, but they sure do help." Renton and Holland laughed quietly. "You are right, Renton. We're not going to fall into the same trap all of Europe fell into before this bloody war." Renton nodded instinctively. Turning a blind eye to the beast would be a terrible mistake, one that they would come to regret later in life. Evil only triumphs when good men do nothing.

" Holland, when all of us meet here after Japan surrenders, we got to make that commitment. Once we choose to stand and fight, there's no turning back. From that point on, we're all in this together."

"Da, Renton. We're all in this together. No question of that." Renton sighed as he stared out the window.

"I swear, Holland, I'm getting far too old for this business. It gets tiring to have to play the hero all the time." Holland blinked as he poured another glass of vodka.

"There's nothing that can be done. Someone has to do it."

"Da. I have to take up the slack because no one chooses to make a stand. It's unfair, but that's the way it is, isn't it?"

Holland nodded slowly. Renton was right, a thousand times over. People don't like to acknowledge a threat. If one comes to that conclusion, then one would have to do something about it.

As the Irish statesman Edmund Burke once said long ago, "The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." How right he was. Any average man in the street would not be so bold as to do this. But Renton is not any average man in the street…

* * *

A/N: Whew. That took a long time to plug out but it was worth it. I thank you all for your patience for this chapter. I really appreciate it. I will try to update again over the weekend but I can't make any promises. Like I said: Unless something happens, you can expect one or two chapters per week.

_Two months after the boy learns the true nature of the beast, the last enemy of the last great war surrenders, thanks to a powerful and deadly new weapon, and the true colors of the boy's old Motherland are shown to the world. The boy's friends are gathered together at last, and the beast is made known to all. All must choose to walk away or band together one last time. _

**Next Time: Take a Stand **


	6. Chapter 6: Take a Stand

**Chapter Six: Take a Stand **

**August 20th, 1945 **

**Belleforest, California**

Japan had at long last surrendered on August 15th, ending the last great war. But the victory came through the use of a dangerous new weapon: the atomic bomb. Its use saved hundreds of thousands of American lives that would have been lost in a mainland invasion of Japan, but it was ushering in a new and ominous era in mankind. The Atomic Age, the age of the bomb. Now, the ultimate agent of death had been conceived. To make matters worse, the Soviet Union had invaded Eastern Europe, imposing a brutal military regime on the countries yearning to live free and, without even firing a shot, had indirectly declared war on the free world. The beast was on the move again. Renton had been right all along, and all the people who had ever listened to him knew it.

As an elderly Russian gypsy named Gonzy said to Renton, Holland, Dominic and the others once shortly after news of the surrender…

"There are dark clouds approaching. The world is destroyed by cataclysm. The destructive power of God wielded by man. Communists and Bolsheviks run amok. Enemies are now allies, and allies enemies. People hide in the sand as the beast slowly crawls out from its cave, awakened."

Even before the meeting was called, progress had been made. Renton's brother Willie offered his services, saying, "This time, brother, I'm fighting with you." Willie's newlywed wife Martha Baxter whom he had met and had fallen in love with while Renton was away in Normandy had joined up. Gonzy had joined, vowing to protect his gypsy brothers and sisters from the Red Shirts. Dominic and Anemone of course offered their services and Holland had kept the local militia intact. The Russian immigrants of the militia knew Renton's words on the Soviet Union, and understood them well. The old Motherland had been soiled, tainted by the dangerous and ill-designing Bolsheviks who only had the lust for power that Hitler and the Nazis had. The Bolsheviks had betrayed them, and they were willing to stand and fight.

Renton had already been chosen to lead, through no action of his own. Holland and Dominic both thought that he should command whatever endeavor was undertaken. Renton, being the tired old soul he was, thought that Holland should lead; he had been a resistance leader in Russia, and since this was essentially a fight against not just his brother Dewey but against his mother country, he should have the honor. As Renton said constantly, "I'm getting far too old for this." Holland refused, saying, "Renton, in the years since you came back to Stalingrad, you have proven to be more of a leader than I could ever be. If anyone deserves to lead, it is you, moj drug."

Renton reluctantly accepted command, and already had his "chiefs-of-staff" in Holland and Dominic. None were quite sure about how to go about confronting the Red Shirts, but Renton hinted at the idea he had in mind by the simple phrase: fight fire with fire.

It was now a cold misty August night. The calls had been made by Dominic. And slowly, one by one, all the people Renton had ever known in his lifetime walked through the door and into his home. Old faces, people he hadn't talked to in a long time. Renton sat in his bedroom dressing himself in his old uniform, the one he wore in France.

The olive green trench coat, riddled with bullet holes long since patched up. The brown flat cap, matching the color of his hair. The grey knickerbockers that had a faded blood red blotch on the left leg, a last remnant of that wound he received in Paris that made him walk with a limp. The black socks matching the color of the night for whenever he and the old force did night operations. The clean white dress shirt, buttoned and tied. He stared at himself in the mirror, looking at the old worn figure that was his image. His hair was scraggly and had grown longer. It looked spiky-looking to some. The piercing dark green eyes had a certain weariness about them, a want for people to leave him and his friends and his country alone, a want for evil to be gone, a want only for peace and a quiet life with his wife, brother and brother-in-law. He had many scars and scratches on his face, evidence of all the close calls in France. His cheeks were hollow, the bones showing in his tired face. He was getting really tired of playing hero, but there was nothing that could be done. No one else seemed to be willing to stand up, so now he was forced to be an unwilling participant. Evil only triumphs when good men do nothing.

He sighed and straightened his collar and sighed heavily. He knew that many would not be too keen on the idea of direct confrontation of not just the Red Shirts but in effect the whole Soviet Union. After all, the country had just come from another war, and most were reluctant to engage in all-out war with the Soviet Union. There were some people who agreed with him, however; most were the people who listened to his big talk in church that day, when he warned all about the true intentions of the Soviet Union. Besides, by invading the countries of Eastern Europe, the Soviet Union had essentially declared war on the United States and all democratic nations who supported the United States anyway.

He turned to the door and slowly opened it, immediately greeted by all the chatter in the next room. He walked slowly to the living area, limping on his cane. He slowly reached a table that had been set for him. There sat Holland on the left side and Dominic on the right, with an empty chair for Renton in the middle. He took it and intently looked at all the chattering faces of those who had come. There were quite many. He saw his brother Willie, now 23, blonde-haired and energetic, seated next to his brown-haired pig-tailed wife Martha. He saw Anemone sitting quietly in a corner close to Dominic, wearing her white and orange dress, twirling her bright red hair. He saw Moondoggie, a black cap covering his auburn hair, light glinting off his horn-rimmed glasses, quietly conversing with his girlfriend Annette, or Gidget, as some called her. He saw Matthieu, wearing his bright smile that seemed to match the bright yellow button-down shirt he was wearing and chatting away with those surrounding him. Next to him on his left sat Donald, looking calm with a blue Bible in hand, his gold cross dangling from his turtleneck sweater. On Matthieu's right sat a local Russian immigrant with short dark hair and brown eyes named Hilda Rostonova, to whom Matthieu had taken an interest in. Renton panned to the right to find Jane Hart, flipping her long blonde hair, her eyes fluttering with the clear presence of mascara and the indistinguishable scent of perfume. She sat talking to one of her friends, laughing and joking about things he probably wouldn't understand. Jane was such a mystery to him. He preferred his quiet modest Eureka any day over her. Jane was a stone compared to Eureka, a shining diamond.

She turned and saw him, eyeing all with those piercing eyes that seemed to see through all things and all people. She smiled, showing her pearly white teeth through her blood-red lips which seemed to only torment him. Those blood colored lips served only to remind him of Normandy: what he saw, where he fought, who he lost. He nodded at the smile and turned right, to see Eureka, with the little children crowding around her, tugging at her dress sleeve, asking questions and listening (or at least trying to listen) to her answers. Timmy, Maurice, Maeter, Linck, and the other children. Renton's eyes turned forward again and there were many people, men and women, all talking with each other. There couldn't be more than thirty. Well. Dominic must know a lot of people, he thought. Then again, he's the more sociable one. He slowly pulled out the metallic whistle he used in Normandy and blew hard, causing all to jump.

"Jeez, Renton!" Matthieu protested. "Do you have to blow that thing so _loud_?!"

"How else do you expect me to get your attention?" Renton said matter-of-factly. "Whispering?" There were a few chuckles from the crowd as Renton tucked the metallic whistle in his trench coat pocket. "I suppose you're all wondering why I called you here tonight."

"We're wondering where the popcorn is!" More laughter from the crowd. Even the chiefs of staff couldn't help laughing. Renton glared at the lot of them.

"This is no laughing matter, gentlemen. We are in the midst of a precarious position."

"What're you talking about?" Moondoggie asked curiously. "What's so precarious about the war being over?"

"Well, let us finish and you will learn. Lieutenant Dominic Sorel went through some reports about a year ago and came across a piece of information that might shock the whole lot of you. Lieutenant?" Dominic nodded and pulled out a copy of the note from his breast pocket.

"Thank you, Renton. Last September, while I was going over intelligence reports at the Presidio I found this note dated December 13th, 1942. It reads, and I quote: 'An organization known as the United Bolshevik Force has been making its base in the forest 30 miles north of Belleforest. Their intentions are unclear as of yet, but it seems that they have an anti-American agenda. From the intelligence and information gathered, they seem to be a radical group intent on spreading Bolshevism. There is no information as to who their leaders are or where their support is coming from, and there is no information as to how they intend to spread Bolshevism.' However, Holland Novakov here was held prisoner by them for more than a year and has learned the true nature and intent of this group of spies. Holland?" Holland nodded.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. The organization, as stated previously, is known as the United Bolshevik Force. They are called Red Shirts by the prisoners for their uniforms. They are all Russian spies who have been sent from the Kremlin in Moscow with the objective of gathering and passing on classified national intelligence to the Kremlin, _and_, most importantly, to spread World Revolution and see this country become part of a one-world communist state." All eyes widened at the two words. World Revolution. Those were things Renton had warned about. The very thing Renton had prophesied was coming true.

"Now of course," Renton put in, "you all remember what I said to you in church that day in 1943, when I came back from Stalingrad. To Stalin, and to the men in power in Moscow, the last conflict was not simply a war against the Germans; it would become a war for world domination. Stalin will not stop at Nazi Germany when the war is over. Stalin will keep expanding until the whole world is united under one red banner. And recent events have proved my thinking to be unfortunately right. A few weeks ago, the Soviet Union occupied Eastern Europe and imposed brutal military regimes in the eastern countries. So, without even firing a shot, the Soviet Union has declared war on us and the rest of the free world. And the agents operating here only prove _conclusively_ the true agenda of the Bolsheviks in power in the Politburo in Moscow." Holland nodded and carried on.

"It pains me to say this, gentlemen, but these agents are building an army here. New recruits fresh from the old Motherland are sent here across the Pacific by boat every day. Sometimes they use captured Russian immigrants and force them to serve. Also they recruit Soviet sympathizers and local communists. They've been supplied with arms directly from the Kremlin. I suspect that their numbers are in the thousands. All of this can only mean one thing: the uprising, the beginning of the Revolution in America, may not be a long way off."

"What are you proposing?" Jane asked candidly.

"Frankly put," Renton began, "I am proposing that we do something about this." There was a slight murmur in the crowd as other whispered to each other worriedly. "Listen to me, gentlemen. I have already proposed to Holland and Lieutenant Sorel that we confront this threat directly. However, I would like to hear your views on the subject." Jane stood up in protest.

"You're not seriously considering, Renton, that we go to war against the Soviet Union, so soon after winning a war at such a devastating cost?" Renton blinked and ordered her to sit down, speaking hard and sternly.

"I don't want outside forces or the events of the last war to influence you. I want you all to speak candidly, without regard with which it may make upon me or anyone around you. Now sit down, Jane." Jane slowly sat back down as Renton threw his vision around the crowded room. "I only want to hear your opinion on whether we should confront this threat directly, and if so, how we go about that." The crowd thought for a moment and then Jane looked up again, a straight hard look on her face and in his eyes, light shining through her golden blonde hair.

" Renton, are you seriously considering a war with the Soviet Union? Bringing _more_ war to this country? Bringing _more_ suffering to this town?"

"If the Soviet Union can imprison its own people in the gulags," Moondoggie pointed out in support, "they can do that to any one of us!" Dominic frowned. He would not let _this_ injustice pass.

"James Darren Emerson!" he called out. "How many times have I heard you talk to me and others in school about the need to defeat the communists?" Murmurs in the crowd. Incriminating evidence that showed a light of hypocrisy, the worst trait anyone can have. "Many of the people in this room, including you, Moondoggie, and you Jane, are as ardent patriots as Renton, or Holland or I. Will you now, when our country needs us most, stop at only words? Is that the sort of people you are?" Most hung their heads down in a state of shame. He had a point. It's convenient to not want to go into another war with another dangerous enemy, perhaps more dangerous than the first. No one liked war, but sometimes there was no other choice.

"If it makes any difference," Renton said solemnly, "I never proposed going to war against the Soviet Union. If anything the Soviet Union has gone to war against _us_. The agents of the United Bolshevik Force are merely one cog in a larger wheel to spread World Revolution. If I want to fight against _anything_, I want to fight these agents. By defeating the agents, we can show, not just to this country, but to the Soviet Union and the whole world at large, what our commitment is." A slight pause. He let them soak that in. "I want you all to close your eyes for a moment and think about what would happen if we fail and the agents succeed in their uprising." They all closed their eyes and it was awful. Chaos. Disorder. Terror. Murders. Hangings. Firing squads. America would fall. The end of a free life as all knew it. The consequences were enough. They all turned to Renton wide-eyed. He shook his head and sighed quietly.

"It's not a pretty sight, is it? Those are the stakes. We must either band together as one to fight this evil…or we must die." All muttered something softly, as some nodded their heads wearily.

"That still leaves the question of how we go about confronting this threat," Moondoggie spoke up. Renton nodded and put his chin in his hands, pondering and going over the options he had. He had one plan. He didn't know if it was a good one.

"Well…no one has come up with an idea, but I had something in mind. I'm not sure if it is a good idea however. It's my reasoning that the way these people are operating is in the style of…how do you say…a resistance cell. With that idea in mind, it is my opinion that we combat these agents through counter-resistance. We'd combat them using such tactics as…covert operations or counter-intelligence gathering." A slight silence. Holland turned to him and smiled.

"I think that is an excellent idea. That's what I did in my resistance back in Russia." Dominic smiled and concurred with Holland.

"Fight fire with fire, I always say." Renton turned to the crowd seated in front of him. Willie stood up.

"Quite frankly, brother, I don't see any other way." Many others called out in support.

"Count me in," Matthieu said smiling.

"Me too," Donald said sternly.

"I'm game," Hilda consented.

"It the best plan open to us," Moondoggie conceded.

"Is that the best you can do?" Jane asked skeptically. All eyes turned to her, stunned at what she just said. Renton however chose to be magnanimous about the seemingly outrageous comment.

"Well, what do you propose?"

"I propose that we meet with these men and negotiate. See if we can't give them something that might make them change their minds."

"Negotiating with Hitler didn't work, did it!?" Dominic called out in protest.

"We must keep our options open. We don't have to resort to force immediately. I say let's see what it is they want and—"

"We know what they want! They want the Bolshevik doctrine to replace our Constitution! They want to see our government overthrown!"

"That's enough!" Renton called authoritatively pounding his fist on the table. "We don't have the time to argue. It seems to me, Jane, that most of us here want to pursue the counter-resistance idea, and if that is the case, then by majority rule we will combat them using counter-resistance tactics. The issue is settled." Jane bowed her head, defiantly. Something tells me this isn't going to be fun, Jane thought. "Before we debrief, does anyone have anything they would like to suggest to make this idea work?"

"We're gonna need more men," Dominic said.

"That's taken care of," Holland said immediately. "I am keeping the militia intact so they can serve in the counter-resistance. I'll go around recruiting more men."

"All of us will," Renton replied. "That is the first order of business at the next meeting. We need to start recruiting more members. 30 to 40 people aren't going to stand a chance against a force that's possibly at least 2,500."

"I'll see if I can't get the military at the Presidio to work with us," Dominic suggested.

"Good. We need all the help we can get. We should probably start an ad campaign of sorts to recruit more members. Posters, flyers, pamphlets, that sort of thing." A tall black-haired man in his early twenties stood up.

"I used to work in the editorial section for the Marin Independent Journal," he said in a German accent. "I can make some pamphlets if you so wish."

"Agreed. What is your name?"

"My name is Hans Ziebach."

"Very well, Hans. From now on you're in charge of Public Relations. Anyone who thinks they have enough creative ability to help recruit and spread the truth, report to Mr. Ziebach. You may be seated."

"Danke, Herr Commandant." Everyone chuckled at the formal address. Renton smiled.

"Now let's not get _too_ ahead of ourselves when it comes to titles…" More chuckles from the crowd. "Does anyone else have any other questions?" Dominic immediately realized something. Not as important, but something that ought to be noted.

"Chief?"

"Now _that's_ a title I can answer to." Everyone laughed. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"We haven't come up with a name for our counter-resistance cell." Renton pondered a name for a moment as others started to throw out names.

"How's about 'Sons of Liberty'?" Matthieu suggested.

"That's been done already," Renton said. "Long, long time ago."

"God's Guardians of Freedom," Donald suggested.

"I like that. A bit long though." The others murmured in agreement.

"How about the Midnighters?" Hans said to the laughter of everyone. "Vas ist? We'll be out at night!" More laughter. Renton shook his head, quietly laughing to himself.

"What about…GekkoState?" Moondoggie said, to the confused responses of everyone. "We may be small like a gecko, but we represent the will of an entire nation-state." Everyone murmured thoughtfully. Dominic turned to Renton.

"I like that name. It's identifiable." Holland concurred on the name.

"It actually used to be the name of my old resistance." Renton smiled lightly.

"Unless anyone else has any other suggestions?" No one spoke up. The name seemed fitting for some reason. "Since there are no other suggestions, we will henceforth be known as GekkoState. If there are no other questions…" No one spoke up. Everything seemed to be covered thoroughly. "The meeting is adjourned. I'd like to thank you all from the very bottom of my heart for choosing to stand and fight this threat. However, if by some blind chance something goes wrong, you may all live to regret the decision you made tonight and curse me forever."

"Never, Mr. Thurston!" Timmy quipped out as he and the others were filing out. "We're with you always. Now and forever!" All cheered as they left the house, the meeting concluded. Renton smiled as he went over and over again in his mind the momentous event that had just transpired. He had given them the choice: to walk away, or to stand and fight. They all made the right choice. The threat was known now, and no one chose to turn their backs. Not now. Not when they were needed most. If it meant one more war to protect everything we hold dear and the ones we love, what does it matter? Don't stop at words, don't stop at what the consequences may be, not when we are needed most. We will all live to be grateful of the decision we made. When we chose to do the right thing. That was what it meant to be a good person.

* * *

A/N: And so the last battle begins. What lies in wait for them now? And it looks like Jane might pose a problem! Here's a preview. I might not update again for another week, depending on what the school situation is. Ugh. Taking three AP classes and an honors course is hard! 

_The boy and his friends now try to gain new members and tell all of the imminent danger of the beast. Old friends join and new faces appear, as more evidence is gathered about the beast. The soldier speaks out to his men and tries to convince his comrades in arms of what must be done for good to triumph over the beast. On the other side, the beast tells his minions his vision for a brand new world… _

**Next time: Answer the Call **


	7. Chapter 7: Answer the Call

**Chapter Seven: Answer the Call **

**September 23rd, 1945 **

**Belleforest****, California**

The ad campaign had begun almost immediately after that first meeting. Hans Ziebach was a master at creating motivational articles. He and another former reporter from the Marin Independent Journal started GekkoState's monthly magazine called RayOut, dedicated to spreading out the truth about the dangers of communism and the true intents of the Bolsheviks, like the rays of the sun. All had put up recruitment and motivational posters all around town and the surrounding areas. The appeal to the Russian immigrants was immense…

On one poster, there stood Renton holding a Mosin-Nagant rifle, pointing his finger at the reader. The captions underneath asked in Russian, "Will you stand and invoke the law, as I have chosen to?"

Another poster showed Renton clasping the hand of a wounded soldier of the White Army, the forces that fought against Lenin and the Bolsheviks in the Russian Civil War, the true heroes of the Russian people. Renton and the soldier were shown looking off to the distant horizon over the snowy steppes of Russia, watching a band of oncoming Red Army soldiers move toward them. In the upper right hand corner there was the year printed in red letters: 1922. The year when the Bolsheviks triumphed and evil won in Russia. At the bottom of the poster, the captions read, "What would he have done, had he been there with us?"

There were posters to the native townspeople too. One poster was particularly striking: There stood a map of Eastern Europe, with the Soviet Union marked in red, with the yellow hammer and sickle. Red arrows carrying the Soviet flag spread out from the Soviet Union, a great octopus, striking into all the eastern countries with explosions. To one side, against a dark background, there stood Renton wearing a trench coat, with a look of concern in his eyes, speaking with a tremble on his lips. The captions below him read, "I told you so."

Progress had been made: Mischa Sarkovsky, a Polish medical student, had joined and was appointed chief medical superintendent. Reverend Norb from Renton's old church had joined up, declaring, "We need to defeat the godless communists at all costs." Dominic had managed to get the military to cooperate with GekkoState in confronting the Red Shirts. The Army had supplied GekkoState with mainly communications and tracking devices and surplus equipment to start with: Radio transmitters, radio jamming devices, radar, code interceptor machines, decoding machines, the works. Dominic was made head of intelligence for GekkoState and Moondoggie and Gidget were assigned the positions of radio operators, relaying tactical information as to enemy whereabouts and interceptors of enemy code transmissions.

Dominic had promised that he would get the Presidio to send troops to help as well, but no Regular Army forces had come; some in the Presidio were still wary of the idea of going to fight again so soon after winning a war. Dominic, who had been given command of Garrison Company D at the Presidio, was determined to get his men, 150 strong to go to GekkoState's side and be the first regular troops in the force. Dominic, by orders of Renton and Holland was stationed at the Presidio to gather more information about the Red Shirts and to try and convince all at the Presidio to cooperate with GekkoState.

Renton and Holland meanwhile had gone around town, going directly to the people, to spread the word and instill a sense of duty and to try and recruit more members. One of the few times Renton had ever been seen in public. His popularity with the Russian immigrants was enormous, as was Holland's. Most other members of the town, especially the middle-age American business class, knew their words and understood them well. One cannot hide one's head in the sand as the beast crawls out from its cave, ready to strike.

Among the new youths aged fourteen to seventeen, however, they seemed to distrust them. They vilified Renton and Holland and the other members of GekkoState. All who called out the beast, naming it for what it really was, were vilified, and labeled paranoid, reactionary, warmongers. Just as had happened in the years before the last great war, now the group of freedom fighters was given the title of "American Nazi Party." History was repeating itself.

On a cold foggy day in Belleforest, Renton stood on a podium speaking before a large crowd, trying to make clear to them the threat rapidly approaching.

"A few months ago, our former ally, the Soviet Union, invaded and occupied the countries of Eastern Europe, imposing brutal military regimes on the countries yearning to live free. Well, I don't about you, but it seems to me that we have another Nazi Germany on our hands!" The crowd cheered at Renton's words. The irony, the parallel of the situation was truly striking. It seemed like 1938 all over again, when Germany was rapidly expanding into Austria and Czechoslovakia.

"Part of my family roots lie with Russia. My own mother, her life taken away when I was only nine, was a refugee from Russia. She came to America shortly after the triumph of the Bolsheviks in the aftermath of the devastating Russian Civil War. She didn't come to this country for no good reason. She came to this country because she saw it as the last bastion of freedom in an enslaved and corrupt world. She saw it, as I think all of us truly see it: she saw it as the last best hope of man on earth. She left her old life in Russia behind because she knew the true intention of the Bolsheviks: Power. Pure, unadulterated power. That has been their goal from the get-go. Since the Revolution of 1917, that was their only goal. Lenin's promises of 'Peace, Land and Bread' was empty motivational rhetoric that allowed him to be thrust into power. He rose to power through the barrel of a gun, killing and imprisoning millions who dissented from his views. His acts, along with the collaboration of the Soviet secret police, are known today as the event called, 'the Red Terror'. Stalin has continued Lenin's murderous policy of dictatorship, by imprisoning and starving millions in the gulags in Siberia, and by the numerous executions of those who dissent and speak out against the Bolshevik regime. I know of no leader, since the Revolution, including the present leadership, who has not strayed from the goal of World Revolution. These agents have the same idea in mind. Their goal is the Bolsheviks' goal. Their goal _is_ and _must be_ the expansion of World Revolution and the final product of a one-world communist state." Another cheer from the crowd, most of them small business owners who didn't want to see their private property taken from them by the Bolsheviks, who wanted the destruction of private property.

"In this life, and especially in moments like this one, we have two choices. One is to try and wish away a threat, and hope the wolf will pass by the door and the other is to stand and defend all that is good and just. And so far, the first choice hasn't given us good results. The only option, the only way that we can protect ourselves and keep our freedom is to fight for it!" A rousing cheer from the crowd at the wise and inspirational words of the old soldier. Renton smiled.

"Throughout our history, we have shown that freedom is never given to us; it is won. We won our liberty, our freedom from the British Empire by fighting for it, by the blood and toil of thousands upon thousands of American soldiers. Time and again, we have called to test our will, to test our faith, to test our belief in the age-old principles that were first established by the Founding Fathers almost 170 years ago. The time of testing has come once again." A slight pause. He let them soak those words in, as he spied a group of brow-furrowed teenagers in the back of the crowd, glaring at him. What a joke they thought. He speaks of war, just as Hitler spoke of war. He spoke of the need of defense, just as Hitler did. Renton decided to make his next words reach to those poor misguided teenagers out in the back.

"I know that many of you are not willing to risk another war. Believe me when I say: there is nothing I would like more than to have peace. I would much rather lead a quiet married life with my wife Eureka. But there are people in this country who only wish to see our way of life destroyed. If I get my quiet life with Eureka after the fight is all over, then I say, 'answering the call was worth it.' We fight for a nobler idea. We don't fight for pay, we don't fight for land, we don't fight simply because someone tells us to…We fight for the idea…that in the eyes of God above, we all have value. I choose to fight to protect my family. Will you risk your family by choosing to stay on the sidelines and simply watch as our way of life is destroyed, brick by brick? Or will you stand up and make a difference and choose to fight to protect all that we have accomplished and to protect the ones we love? I sincerely hope that you will make the right choice. For those who choose to not join us…I'll be sure to see you somewhere in this life after this fight is over. I will thank from the bottom of my heart every person who chooses to step forward and defend what is right and just. I ask you all for your prayers and your support. Thank you…good day…and God bless you." As he stepped down from the podium, there rose an awesome and mighty cheer, from all in the crowd. Even the spiteful teenagers could not disagree with him. They rushed forward to shake his hand, to thank him for his kind words, to make some comment about the wise and inspirational words he spoke today. Others went straight to a recruitment booth, where they signed their names and took the oath to defend their country and protect the ones they loved.

One man who surged forward to say a few words to him was a heavy-set man, about 50, with green-tinted glasses, dressed in a white overcoat and matching white trousers.

" Renton!" he called. Renton turned to see who had called out to him and in an instant recognized who it was. His old family physician. The man who had watched the family's health ever since his birth. Someone he hadn't seen in a long time.

"Dr. Bear!" They greeted each other with a strong handshake, laughing at seeing each other's smiling face after so long.

"It's been a long time, Renton. A long, long time."

"Well, I've been very busy." Dr. Greg "Bear" Egan smiled.

"So I've heard." The two laughed as they reveled in seeing each other after so long. The last time he saw Dr. Bear was in 1941, before Pearl Harbor for what had been his last daily check-up. After Pearl Harbor, Dr. Bear had served as a doctor in a hospital for wounded soldiers and had not seen much of Renton. He had also become a political analyst, and was an expert when it came to how communism operated.

"So you've been busy too, huh?" Renton said after hearing Dr. Bear's back-story. "Well…at least I'm not alone."

"I'm not as audacious as you are, unfortunately. Renton, what you said up there…nothing could be more truthful. You're right, a thousand times over."

"I'm glad there's someone else who is as concerned as I am. In this country, and in Eastern Europe, we have to fight communism."

"No question, Renton. Renton, this might sound strange coming from a fifty-year-old man, but…is there any way I can join?" Renton smiled knowingly.

"Of course. We're always open for new members. There's a recruitment booth over that way where you can become a member. We could use someone who knows about communism to convince all the naysayers."

"Where do I sign?" the two laughed and Renton pointed in the direction of the booth.

"Our next meeting will be tomorrow night at my place. I need you to compile anything you can about the communist regime. We, along with the rest of the people need to know the truth."

"Absolutely. I'll have it ready at the next meeting."

"See you then." The two men parted each to their different businesses. Each were confident in the belief that each were doing what was right.

»»»»»

"Russian brothers and Russian sisters!" Holland called to the militia and the Russian immigrants that had gathered. "I have a word to say to you!"

The men of the militia, more than 450 strong, all stood at attention listening closely to their commander. There Holland stood, wearing his traditional commander's uniform, a White Army leftover from the Russian Civil War: Tall black boots, with his grey trousers tucked in. A long grey overcoat buttoned and tied topped with an olive green officer's cap. The epaulets on his shoulders marked his status as commander. Around his neck he wore a bright yellow ascot, to distinguish himself from the other soldiers. He looked on sternly, turning his eyes to each man in the militia and each face in the crowd of Russian immigrants.

"Across the Pacific Ocean, lies our old Motherland, its snowy frozen steppes, and then… Moscow! Brothers and sisters, our Motherland has been tainted, soiled, disfigured by those dangerous and ill-designing men who betrayed us and our country almost thirty years ago: the Bolsheviks!" There was a slight growl from the soldiers and the immigrants at that word. "They promised us 'Peace, land, and bread,' and we have only gotten war, poverty and starvation! They killed many like you and me who stood up for what was right and imprisoned millions more in the gulags in Siberia who spoke out against them. Brothers and sisters, the Bolsheviks are dragged on by their inevitable fate! They have intimidated us, bullied us, and threatened us if we do not concede to their demands. They wanted us to be materialistic and incapable of sacrifices, and instead we are selfless, capable of sacrifice. They wanted us to not believe in God, and our churches are full. They wanted us to fear the guns and the tanks and the bombs, and instead we don't fear them at all!" There was a cheer from the crowd of Russian immigrants as the militiamen kept silent, wanting to hear more.

"My brothers and sisters, there are men in this country who are serving the Bolsheviks in power in the Politburo in Moscow. They are passing on information about this country to the Kremlin, so that our mortal enemies, the Bolsheviks and the men who conspired with them, can tear our newfound country down, tear the democracy down and install instead a communist regime, which is destined only to bring slavery and despotism and woe to all in this great land known as the United States. I have come to see this as my second home. I, like many of you, broke my ties forever with the Motherland, seeing as many of you must have seen that there was no hope for our holy Motherland." A slight pause. He sighed heavily as he let them digest that.

"But brothers…sisters…to me now, there is still hope. The light of hope has come. The agents of the beast are planning to spread World Revolution as was long intended by the Bolsheviks all those years ago in 1917. Unless someone stands up and says no, and fights at every turn, nothing will ever get better. That is what I am calling on all of you to decide. We are now at a time for choosing. We are at war with the most dangerous enemy ever faced in the history of mankind. It has been said by many that if we lose this war and in so doing lose this way of liberty of ours, history shall record with the utmost and heart wrenching bewilderment that those who had the most to lose did the least to prevent its happening. It's about time we ask ourselves if we still know the freedoms that we're intended for us by the Founding Fathers." There was a murmur among the crowd, all seemingly agreeing with him.

"I would like all of you to remember why we came to this country in the first place. To escape persecution. To escape tyranny. To escape oppression and certain death. WE came here because we knew that this was the greatest country on God's green Earth, the last ray of hope in a dying world. Now, as agents build up their army and prepare to launch the revolution, the call is made for all of us to step forward and defend what is right and just! We will never give in! We will stand and fight! We will use all the strength and power we possess to prove our cause is just. If we stand and fight these agents, we might just prove to the Bolsheviks in power in Moscow, to the people of the United States, and perhaps to the whole world what we, the free and liberated, must rise and fight against." There arose another cheer from the immigrants at the words of wisdom Holland spoke. Freedom is never given. It is won.

"I give you all the choice. We the fellow members of the American people have a date with destiny. We can preserve for our children, and our children's children, this country, the last best hope of man on earth, or we can sentence them to take the first step into an age of darkness and despair. Which path will you choose, brothers and sisters? Will you simply sit on the sidelines and let everything come to pass, or will you stand with me and Renton and the rest of GekkoState to invoke all that is right and good in this country and fight to preserve it for future generations?"

All looked to each other momentarily as they contemplated the choice given to them. It didn't take them long to reach a decision. The men of the militia took one step forward and in an instant committed themselves to the daunting challenge ahead. Never step back in the face of evil. Never give one inch. Stand and fight. Always.

Fillipov, the bright-eyed young boy who always sung the patriotic Russian tune when they marched through the streets stepped forward and said to Holland enthusiastically, "Commander Novakov, we will never give up. No matter how hard the struggle. We are with you sir, and with all of GekkoState and the people of the United States." All cheered and tossed their caps in the air as Holland smiled, crossing his arms.

"I sincerely thank all of you from the very depth of my heart for making the right choice. You have chosen to stay and protect all that is right and good in this country. One day, when all of this is over, and peace comes at last, we will be proud enough to say to our grandchildren, 'I made the right decision today.'" All cheered and marched down the road through the town, chanting the old chorus of that old patriotic tune to the headquarters of GekkoState, once a mere 450 militiamen, but now almost 900 strong. Holland knew how to talk to people, and he knew how to motivate.

»»»»»

At the Presidio, Major Jurgens stepped towards the communicator connected to the loudspeaker. He had read the first pamphlet of RayOut and he along with secretary and wife Maria Schneider as well as some other officers decided that the best way of confronting and defeating the Red Shirts was to ally themselves with the counter-resistance unit known as GekkoState. Lieutenant Dominic was already a high-ranking member in GekkoState, so it only made sense. With his wife and the others watching him, and Lieutenant Sorel and his wife Anemone talking to the men of Company D out on the parade grounds outside, he placed the handheld communicator to his mouth and spoke in an authoritative tone.

"We, the men and women of the United States Military only exist to protect the country and all the people on it. However, it has been discovered by one of our intelligence officers that a group of Soviet agents have made a base here in California and are planning to spread World Revolution, in conjunction with the Soviet Union. Immense power has been usurped by a select few in the Kremlin, who are planning to annihilate all democratic countries using a clever and diabolical trap. The Presidio of San Francisco and all military personnel operating here will now join in an alliance with the local counter-resistance group known as GekkoState."

All gasped and eyes widened at the declaration as Jurgens continued.

"We will join them in their fight against our mutual enemy, a group of agents operating under the control of the Communist government of the Soviet Union." A soldier, a clean-shaven captain stood up and called out the major personally.

"Pardon me for objecting, Major, but are you insane?!"

"No, I'm not!" Dominic called out to the men of Company D, standing at attention on the parade grounds. "The Soviet Union wants to wipe out all democratic countries in one sweep, and install soviet backed communist governments in their places…even if it means sacrificing freedom for all mankind! These agents are proof positive of that! I don't know about you, boys, but in order to protect this country and all the people on it, I choose to fight these agents of evil alongside GekkoState!"

CRACK!

A shot rang out that nearly knocked Dominic's garrison cap off his head. D Company, Dominic and Anemone all dove to the ground to avoid the fire. It was coming from a lone private, off in the distance, firing his Garand rifle, thinking that maybe if he kill the lieutenant, he could stop this madness, stop a needless war with the Soviets.

"Who fired that shot?!" Schneider called. "Cease fire! Stop it! Stop it!"

The sergeant on duty came by the private and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down to the ground. The private looked up at the sergeant in anger.

"What kind of cowardly crap is that, Sarge? Fight against the Soviets, our former allies?! Don't you know how many of them died in the last war?!?!"

"I know how many, private!" the sergeant snapped back. "But let's just listen to what they have to say."

Major Jurgens sighed heavily, seeing that there were still some who were reluctant to fight. He too didn't want to fight another war, but he knew the true danger of the Soviet Union, and he had seen what can happen if no course of action is taken. It was only logical, nay, necessary to fight this evil. If it meant peace in the end, he was all for it. He spoke sagely and solemnly through the communicator.

"In Russia, so many innocent lives have been thrown away in prison camps of Siberia. Among our own ranks, there must be many who have lost family and friends in the last war. Think about what I am saying. Why did those Russians have to sacrifice their lives for some mad pursuit of power? You must see what we, the living standing here today, need to rise up and fight against!"

"To protect the country," Dominic finished, "and the future of a free mankind!" A slight silence ensued as the men digested that. Many of them however were unconvinced. Seizo, who had just been promoted to platoon sergeant, stepped forward to his commanding officer.

"Don't mean to cast doubt on you, or your ideas, sir," he said quietly, "but the men aren't too keen on all that goody two-shoes talk." Dominic and Anemone's eyes widened. They looked at each other stunned. He had prepared to say all of that to them, and it didn't resonate? It was unreal. Anemone smiled, having an idea in her head. Through her look and her strange lavender eyes, in an instant it was transferred to Dominic's mind and he soon caught on, sighing heavily.

"All right, then," he consented. "there's someone I love." All the men instantly perked up at the word love, as they spied their lieutenant looking on to his wife, trying to encourage him on. "There's nothing more I want than to have a peaceful and quiet life with her. Maybe someday start a family But there are so many people in this country who would not want it that way. I just want to protect her! I want to protect my wife!" Anemone smiled and nodded instinctively as a tear trickled down her face as Dominic quickly regained his courage, and, blushing madly, went on into the spiel for his troops.

"This is not a battle for rank or glory," Jurgens continued on the loudspeaker. "This is a fight Lieutenant Dominic and I are going to challenge ourselves to fight in order to protect the people of this country and the ones we love. Those of you who cannot agree with us are free to leave. If you so wish it, report to command and inform them of our actions. The enemy that stands before us numbers in the thousands. And so…I will be eternally grateful to each of you who offers to stand up in order to save this country! Those who leave…I will be sure to see you somewhere in this country someday."

A few hours later, a group of commissioned officers were sent from each of the barracks to the command center of the Presidio, reporting first to Secretary Schneider, and then followed her into the officer's lounge where Major Jurgens sat at a desk. He looked up to see his wife and a bunch of officers behind her, standing firmly at attention and saluting their commanding officer.

"Major Jurgens, 88 officers of the Presidio under Maria Schneider reporting for duty as requested." Jurgens smiled and scratched his mustache as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket

"Very good," he said. "We're all going to be busy, that's for sure." He lit his cigarette and took a puff as all went to their respective duties, dedicated now to stopping the threat of a Soviet takeover. This was a fight that would not be soon forgotten.

Outside, there was laughter among the ranks of Company D, as Dominic Sorel, afraid that maybe even that speech didn't inspire, was starting to lose it. Even Anemone could not help but laugh.

"You-you understand? You understand, right?! P-please! Tell me!" He turned to Anemone, laughing her head off. "Anemone, did I say something wrong?!" He panted, the sweat pouring down his neck and soaking his collar, nervous and uncertain.

"Well, well, well," Seizo said smiling to the company. "It looks like we got ourselves another one here." Dominic looked up and saw his whole company smiling at him, wide, seemingly knowing something he didn't. "Exactly like somebody else we have all come to know."

"Yessiree, Sarge," A clean-shaven private said smiling, adjusting his helmet. "Just like him."

"It's a feeling we have all forgotten about," said a private.

"He looks like him too."

"Yep," Anemone said curling his arm around him, smiling. "He really _is_ quite handsome." Dominic blushed and pulled his garrison cap over his eyes, embarrassed.

"Err, well, I…" Anemone giggled as Seizo stepped forward and spoke seriously to Dominic.

"We understand you, Lieutenant, and we're with you…all the way." All the men nodded and mumbled in agreement. Dominic beamed in an instant and immediately regained his former stance.

"I thank you all," he said authoritatively, "from the very bottom of my heart for making the right choice, men. You won't live to regret it. I promise you. You'll have my and Renton's eternal thanks." Seizo and the company saluted him in an instant and Seizo turned to the men of the company.

"Three cheers for Lieutenant Sorel!" Seizo called. "Hip, hip…!"

"Huzzah!" shouted the company.

"Hip, Hip!"

"Huzzah!"

"Hip, Hip!"

"Huzzah!"

"There you are, boys!" Dominic and Anemone smiled as Dominic spoke his last words.

"Brace yourselves, men. Renton told me to tell you all that this isn't gonna be half-assed. From now on, we're all in this together." He saluted his company and they all returned it, calling in unison,

"YES, SIR!"

»»»»»

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest, California **

In the darkly lit room, the high-ranking Red Shirts had gathered again for another briefing. Captains Pavel Dolgorukhov and Sergey Pavlenko, the chiefs of staff for Commissar Dewey Novakov sat in the center of the arching table. On the far sides, there sat the five Ageha sisters, the chief intelligence gatherers for the United Bolshevik Force. On Dolgorukhov's left sat Lieutenant Ilya Chertov his assistant commander of his section of the force and chief quartermaster. On Pavlenko's right, there sat Igor Paitsev (A/N: pronunciation, pie-eat-sev), his chief lieutenant. In front of the arching table, Commissar Dewey sat on a cushioned seat dressed in his Red Army uniform. GekkoState had been discovered by the spies stationed in Belleforest, and knowing anything and everything about these rebels was absolutely essential.

"Comrades," the Commissar spoke up authoritatively, the light reflecting in his cold blue eyes, "you have had four hours. You better have results. Ageha A?" The blond-haired girl, the eldest of the Ageha sister leaned in and read her report.

"Based on the information gathered by our spies, GekkoState seems to be a counter-resistance group. They are currently garnering support against us, calling us such names as 'the agents of the great evil.' They are mostly reaching out to the average middle-class and the newly naturalized Russian immigrants."

"Ageha B, what have you found?" The pig-tailed auburn-haired girl shifted through the reports and spoke nervously.

"One of the prominent leaders of this movement is the boy known as Renton Thurston…" Dewey's eyes widened. I might have known, he thought. Only _he_ would do something like this, the little upstart. "We have not recovered anything that points to how he got the information of our existence. He is saying that we are planning to launch an uprising against the United States government in order to turn the country into another Soviet Union. He claims that this is part of a larger plan by the Bolsheviks to spread World Revolution and form a one-world communist state. His words have already resonated with the middle-class and the Russian immigrants. It seems, Commissar, that whoever this boy is, he is an excellent motivator." Dewey raised his eyebrows and spoke harshly.

"Spare us your personal annotations, Ageha B. They are irrelevant."

"Apologies, Comrade Commissar. We also found that one of his chief lieutenants is…Holland Novakov, sir. Your brother." Dewey put his hand to his chin and nodded, seemingly expecting all this.

"Da…da. It seems little brother is up to his old tricks again. Only he would conspire with Renton in such a foolish and arrogant attempt as this. He will undergo the same fate as all the rebels when we finally corner them. Ageha C?" A black-haired girl leaned in and gave her figures.

"They have gained numerous recruits, Comrade Commissar. From the last reports sent in by our spies, they now stand at 1,500 personnel, and their numbers are growing larger. It also seems that the United States Military District of San Francisco has begun lending them equipment. There is no confirmation if they are lending troops to them, as of yet." Dewey nodded and turned to Dolgorukhov, staring intently at him waiting for whatever question he had.

"Captain Dolgorukhov, how are the troops' feelings about the GekkoState?"

"There is a lot of concern, sir. It seems to them that a group of ambitious young men have discovered them due to the lack of security regarding prisoners and many are nervous about the possibility of fighting GekkoState along with the United States military. They are hoping that in your speech tonight sir, that the threat of GekkoState will be addressed."

"What are the opinions of Renton Thurston?"

"They see him as an overly-ambitious young man who only wants power for himself. There is a general sense of worry that he has the support of the populace. They think that he uses his experiences in Normandy and in Stalingrad to make up certain stories about the so-called dangers of communism and uses his time in Russia as his ability and apparent legitimacy to call the leaders of our glorious Revolution 'a gang of power-hungry murderers.'"

"Lieutenant Chertov, what are we doing about that?" The red-haired Chertov, 19, cleared his throat and spoke.

"We are calling them the American White Army, saying that what they desire is the return of the monarchy in Russia, or even worse, the installment of the hypocritical system known as democracy. The members, we tell them, are traitors to the Russian people and traitors to the Revolution. They will undergo the same fate as the Czarists when our glorious Red Army and our great leader Lenin finally triumphed all those years ago. We promise them that you will address the treacherous GekkoState in your speech tonight." Dewey rose from his seat and addressed all in his authoritative booming voice.

"Comrades, the almost certain war with GekkoState that will follow the uprising is a test. Moments such as these are matters of faith and conviction. To lose to the rebels is to invite doubt into everything we believe, everything that we have fought for since the Revolution. Doubt will plunge our Motherland back into chaos as it was before the Revolution, and we will _not_ let that happen. Comrades, when the uprising begins, I want these rebels found and I want them to understand what the price of rebellion is." The Commissar raised his right hand, so his arm formed a right angle, and contracted his fingers into a fist. "Glory to the Revolution!"

All repeated this salute and returned, "Glory to the Revolution!"

They rose from their chairs and filed out of the meeting room and headed for the auditorium, where all the Red Shirt troops were gathered to hear Dewey's address. Surely he, the man who Comrade Stalin himself chose to lead this brave mission to spread Bolshevism would have something to say about these…rebels.

»»»»»

In the auditorium, hours later, all the soldiers sat in seats laid out fro them. They were all decked in their traditional uniforms: red long-sleeve shirts with the yellow hammer and sickle embedded on the breast pockets and olive green trousers with a red stripe down the side of either leg tucked into tall black boots. From an observer above, one would say it looked to be a great ocean of blood. They were all conversing to one another, and there was a great deal of concern about the GekkoState. But all felt confident that their great commander, Colonel Dewey Novakov, would address the threat of these rebels. In front of them stood a podium on a large wooden platform. Behind the podium was a large screen, and in the back of the room, Dolgorukhov and Pavlenko manned a camera with film loaded. In order to get things rolling, they were going to show a propaganda film. The lights dimmed down and the film began to run.

It showed the flag of the Soviet Union, embedded with the hammer and sickle, fluttering in the background. A great crescendo of music in the form of the Soviet national anthem played in the background. The sound of the triumphant Slavic tones of the chorus made the soldiers cheer and rise in salute, the clenched fist salute of the Bolshevik Party, chanting as one, sounding like a group of demons of Satan's army ready to be unleashed on the world to consume all that is good and just. Then a voice came over the loudspeaker, in tune with the film as the image of the flag faded slightly to show the vast fields of what and hay.

"Comrades," the voice spoke, "we come from a great land. We come from a land of peace, of plenty, of promise. We are the children of a great nation: The Soviet Union." The film faded again to show hundreds of thousands of faces of different people. Each bore a smile, doing a great task such as tending to the crops, working in the factories, or simply standing, looking off to the horizon. "We are the proud people of this great land. We are the builders of the future. The builders of a new world…" The images of the people then turned to soldiers, charging against the lines of an unseen enemy, hopping over the barbed wire fences, and rising form the ground, moving forward in the great advance. "We are dedicated to the proposition to bring about world revolution and see the ultimate objective of our great leader, Lenin, achieved. But always and everywhere, we are being stopped…by them!"

The images changed again to show a dark haired clean-shaven man, staring into the eyes of all the soldiers in the audience.

"WHO ARE THEY?" the voice boomed. The face faded to show numerous people waving the American flags and chanting "U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A!" It changed again to show marching soldiers, off to some unknown battlefield in a faraway part of the world.

"They are the dark armies…the dark, murdering armies of the United States of America!" The image changed again to show resistance partisans fighting in the streets of the great cities of eastern Europe. From Stettin in the Baltic, to Triesk in the Adriatic. "On the streets of Berlin, and of Warsaw and Budapest…on the snowy plains of Eastern Europe, we fight against those resist us. They are supported, always and everywhere, by those barbarians whose only honor is atrocity." The image faded again to the clean-shaven man, yelling, screaming at the soldiers, firing a Thompson submachine gun. One Red Shirt, a red-haired woman screamed frightened at the sight of the horrible man who seemed to have come from Hell.

"But comrades, there is still hope," reassured the voice. "We gain ground every day. Everywhere, the resistances are being defeated by the soldiers of our glorious Red Army. But…even as we slowly come closer to victory, there is a cancer, an evil tumor that is growing, spreading in our midst. Only 30 miles south of us, a group of dangerous and ill-designing men have stood together, dedicated to defeating us and seeing our beloved motherland destroyed!" The images then showed various men standing on podiums, talking and inspiring crowds, cheering them at their wise words. "Those men are known as GekkoState, and they are supported, as all who resist us are, by the United States. And we know who the GekkoState's leader is. In truth he is descended from our old motherland. But he is too arrogant and lustful for power to see what good has been done. He would rather see his own motherland destroyed than see our glorious Revolution perfected. Shout. Shout! SHOUT! SHOUT OUT HIS NAME COMRADES!" The image then changed to a clean-shaven brown-haired boy, speaking out to the crowd calmly and coolly. Immediately the soldier rose and chanted the name of that hated man.

"THURSTON! THURSTON! THURSTON!"

The soldiers then hurled obscenities in Russian at the resistance leader, throwing anything they could find at the image of that reviled man. Chanting his name hatefully. Calling him every single name there was. Traitor! Backstabber! Turncoat! American pig! Capitalist dog! Liar! Cheat! Again and again the names were thrown at him, until their voices grew hoarse. Then, the boy's image faded away and there came on the clean-shaven man, firing the Thompson at the soldiers screaming at the top of his lungs. All shouted and cried "NYET! NYET! NEVER SURRENDER! NEVER! NYET!" the image faded and then the flag of the Soviet Union, the hammer and sickle fluttering came on and the trumpets sounded the first chords of the Soviet Anthem. All the soldiers stood at attention and raised their right hands in the salute of the Bolshevik Party, chanting as one…

"Glory to the Revolution. Glory to the Revolution. Glory to the Revolution."

Pavlenko looked to Dolgorukhov with those fiery red eyes into his deep brown. Dolgorukhov nodded and picked up a microphone on the stand of the camera. He then spoke into it, calling to all the soldiers in the auditorium.

"Comrades…fellow Bolsheviks…communists…friends of the Revolution, here is your leader, your commander in this great endeavor that we shall soon undertake…Comrade Colonel Dewey Novakov!" The soldiers cheered as the grey-haired man walked onto the platform and to the podium, the green cape trailing behind him. He approached the podium and all quieted down, standing at attention.

"Comrades, fellow Bolsheviks, friends of the Revolution, welcome!" A great cheer for the Commissar. Dewey smiled as he spoke again. "I speak to you today concerning the great task that has been set before us by Comrade Stalin. Almost thirty years ago, the Bolshevik Party, under the great leadership of Comrade Lenin, took power form the murderous Czar in the October Revolution. He promised us peace, land and bread in return for our loyalty and our solemn commitment to Bolshevism. He gave us all we needed. We are here…in the United States of America to carry out Comrade Lenin's great plan, as continued by our leader, Comrade Stalin. Our objective is world Revolution and the overthrow of all the capitalist nations of the world. And this nation is the chief leader of the capitalist world. Comrades, we are here to free this country from the murderous grip of the capitalists and the men who conspire with them, known to the world as democrats, republicans, the proponents of the hypocritical form of government known as democracy. They say they want world peace and democracy for all nations, and instead we see war and slavery. They say they want self-determination for all nations, and instead we see a quest for global supremacy. Comrades, our duty here is to free the people from the shackles of the tyrannical Americans. Throw away the deceitful system known as capitalism and the fabricated concept of democracy and bring instead the ultimate form of living: COMMUNISM!" The soldiers chanted and cheered giving the clenched fist salute of the Bolshevik Party. Dewey smiled wider. He was playing them into the palm of his hands.

"Comrades, in the month of October, less than three weeks from now, we shall, as a demonstration of our resolve, and the resolve of the communist nations of the world—"

There arose a great rousing cheer from the soldiers, now more a pack of wild beasts waiting to be let lose. They knew what he was going to say.

"We will launch the uprising that will be the beginning of the Revolution here in America!"

Another cheer from the soldiers of the crowd, their blood boiling, ready to take the cowardly capitalists right then and there. They raised their fists again in the salute of the Bolshevik Party, chanting their leader's name. "DEWEY! DEWEY! DEWEY! DEWEY!"

"This is the first step in what hopefully be a short war against the capitalist Americans. The enemy that we face is the United States military, and those treasonable maggots who seek to destroy our beloved Motherland, GekkoState." The crowd booed and hissed at the mention of those rogues, those rebels, those traitors of the Motherland. Dewey calmly raised a hand, calming them. "I promise you, comrades, that in the battles that are sure to come, WE will be victorious! WE will live on! WE will prevail! And the leader of GekkoState, Renton Thurston, the man you saw on this screen tonight, and all the men who conspired with him, will undergo the same fate as the Romanov family, the Czarists, and the numerous White Russians who fought against us in the civil war that followed in the wake of the Revolution. They will come to understand what the price of resistance is!" He raised his hand in the clenched fist salute and shouted at the top of his lungs, "DEATH TO GEKKOSTATE! DEATH TO RENTON THURSTON! DEATH TO AMERICA! DEATH TO CAPITALISM! GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION!" The numerous soldiers raised their hands in the clenched fist salute in response chanting the phrase that resonated with them, the phrase that was repeated to them over and over.

"Glory to the Revolution! Glory to the Revolution! Glory to the Revolution!"

* * *

A/N: Things don't look good for our heroes. Did Dewey's speech scare the crap out of you? It sure scared me, and I wrote it! Here's a preview of what is to come… 

_In October, the beast emerges from his cave and strikes. The war, the conflict that the boy had feared, is now upon them. _

**Next time: Red October **


	8. Chapter 8: Red October

A/N: The following battle and the future battles to come in this story are not battles that actually happened. These are events that I and some other historians call, "speculative history," meaning that these were events that did not actually happen but may have happened had the situation been set just right. This is asking the question, "what if…?"

However, all the events in this story are based in historical fact: there _were_ Soviet spies in this country, passing on top-secret information to the Kremlin in Moscow; and the Soviets' plan _was_ to see a one-world communist state controlled by them. That was the same plan held by the Bolsheviks in the Revolution of 1917, and no leader since the Revolution ever deviated from that one objective. We can only thank God that events did not come to this.**

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Chapter Eight: Red October**

**October 24****th****, 1945**

**Outskirts of Tresoir, California**

This was supposed to be the Great Day for the Red Shirts. It seemed almost destiny that the day of the uprising should fall on the same day when the Bolsheviks took power…

Tresoir was a small town of about 1,200 which was miniscule compared to Belleforest, which had more than 5,000. There were a high number of French immigrants, hence the French sounding name. Five miles north of Tresoir was a large and almost impenetrable forest of redwoods and to the northwest, there was a high mountain range, an extension of the Marin headlands. On those towering mountains, under the shroud of a heavy blanket of fog, an army lay in wait to invade…

The United Bolshevik Force comprised more than 4,500 men and women in uniform. At the head of the force was of course Colonel Dewey Novakov, although he preferred the title of "Commissar." Under him was Captain Pavel Dolgorukhov, the Colonel's chief lieutenant, Captain Sergey Pavlenko, Captain Boris Debretskoy, and Captain Alexander Vervanev, all hardened veterans of the last war and devout patriots of the Revolution. Dolgorukhov, 22, had command of some 1,500 men in his battalion. They were made up of most well-trained men in the whole force. These were the assault troops of the force, armed with PPSh submachine guns, trained for getting close to the enemy, charging enemy positions, and killing the enemy mercilessly in hand-to-hand combat. Captain Pavlenko, 20, had a command of 1,000 troops, which were made of regulars, the professional soldiers, making up the backbone of the force. They were all skilled with Mosin-Nagant rifles and could hit a target from a mile away, if not more. Captain Debretskoy, 21, was in command of a special force of 500, known as the SOF, or Special Operations Force. The name itself was a misnomer; although they were the ones that conducted covert operations and raids, their specialty was execution of any and all that resisted them. They were the ones who carried out the execution of prisoners who tried to escape and the executions of deserters. They were really nothing more than a unit of murderers, who blindly do as they are told without any reservation or afterthought. Lastly, Captain Vervanev, 21, had the command of 1,500 troops known as the "Workers' Battalions," recruited from the local communists and Soviet sympathizers and the eager working classes from Russia, ready to prove their worth, shouting the battle cry, "Death to the Bourgeoisie!" Collectively the Workers' Battalions were known as the Joy Division, which was an oxymoron. They carried out the torture of prisoners and deserters and committers of crimes in the force. They were, like the SOF, a gang of murderous thugs.

Apart from the 4,500 infantry that made up the backbone of the force, there were also 48 mortars, transported directly from the arms factories in Russia, organized into 8 "Oratorio Batteries", along with 3 small World War One era artillery pieces, classified as "heavy artillery," along with 25 "armored cars", which were really just regular automobiles filled with armed men. Whenever the cars were engaged, the car windows would roll down and the men inside would simply shoot out of the windows and at the enemy. It wasn't really professional, but one had to make do with what one had.

On the craggy mountaintop, high in the sky and about two miles northwest of Tresoir, there stood Dewey, looking through his binoculars upon the quiet and unsuspecting town, flanked by the Ageha sisters and his two chiefs of staff, Dolgorukhov and Pavlenko and their lieutenants. As he looked through the binoculars, he spoke.

"America…the last barrier in our way on our march to spread World Revolution for the Motherland…" All eyes turned to him, as he seemed to be contemplating something that none could tell. Dewey lowered his binoculars and looked to each of his subordinates. "This country must be destroyed. Right, comrades?"

All saluted and said immediately, "Da, Comrade Commissar." Dewey then turned to his chief lieutenant, Captain Pavel Dolgorukhov and the chief quartermaster, Lieutenant Ilya Chertov.

"Captain Dolgorukhov, are your troops in readiness?" Dolgorukhov and Chertov clicked their heels together firmly, with a look of solid determination on their faces.

"Da, Comrade Commissar."

"Captain Pavlenko, are your troops in position?" Pavlenko, the youngest of the captains saluted firmly and promptly with the glint of bayonets in his fiery eyes.

"Da, Comrade Commissar. Ready to attack on your orders." Dewey at last turned to the chief quartermaster, Ilya Chertov, 19.

"Chertov, is the SOF ready?"

"Da, Comrade Commissar."

"The Joy Division?"

"Da."

"Oratorio Batteries?"

"Da."

"Heavy Artillery?"

"Da."

"The armored cars?"

"Da." Dewey's mouth curled into a crooked smile. Everything was ready. All that had to be done now was give some last orders and the Revolution will begin.

"Excellent, comrades. Dolgorukhov, Pavlenko, go back to your posts and tell all commanders that when they hear the first shots of the mortar and artillery batteries, that will be the attack signal."

Dolgorukhov and Pavlenko promptly saluted their chief and went to their respective commands as Dewey turned to Ageha sisters, standing at attention and waiting for orders.

"Bring me the radio transmitter and get me through to all batteries."

"Yes, sir!" they returned, and they all left to find the radio transmitter. They soon found one and got on the line with all batteries. Ageha B brought it to the Commissar and knelt.

"Waiting on your orders, Comrade Commissar." Dewey smiled and chuckled quietly.

"Good…good." He picked up the receiver and paused for a few moments. He turned to the rest of the Ageha sisters and said his last words.

"Comrades…today, the Revolution begins." They all smiled and nodded as Dewey turned back to the phone. "All batteries…FIRE!"

High in the mountains, 3 men manning three World War One era artillery pieces waited for the order to fire. A few meters away, a young blonde-haired lieutenant heard the order and turned to his troops.

"BATAREYA….!" The troops manned their positions and waited for the order to fire by volley. "ZALPOM… OGON!"

The gunners pulled the lanyards on the cannons and the big guns fired with a boom, a sound that cut through the still air, a knife that broke the peace of this quiet community. The Oratorio mortar batteries fired in kind with the order, "BATAMKA PRATIMNIKA DYEGLUM…OGON!" Soon the air was filled with shot and shell and the troops in the valley below marched ahead under the gunfire, red battle flags fluttering, their boots chanting in rhythm as they hit the ground, approaching the town of Tresoir…

»»»»»

In the square, there was a small orchestra playing under a gazebo with all standing, gathered around to hear the beautiful music. There were GekkoState agents working in Tresoir to reach out to the population. There were recruitment signs everywhere. The local militia, 750 men, was on high alert everyday. But today seemed like any other. No threat of a Red Shirt attack. No threat of an invasion. After all, the Soviets wouldn't dare attack us. Just then, the crowd heard a whistle over their heads, far above them in the sky. They looked up as the band played on, but they saw nothing. Then…

BOOM!

The gazebo exploded in a ball of flames, killing the orchestra. Soon there were dreadful screams coming from all in the square, and more shells fell on the square, killing several persons, casting them into the air like dolls only to hit the ground with a crack and a slow seep of blood from their dead bodies. Others were blown to nothingness, leaving only a hand or a shoe or some other article as the shells fell right on top of them. The townspeople scattered in all directions to try and find some route of escape. All the streets seemed clear and their path to escape clear of obstacles. There was no escape.

Many ran down the streets that led northwards to find armed men marching toward them, their rifles charged at them, bayonets glinting in the low autumn sun. They were wearing red long-sleeve shirts with the yellow hammer and sickle embedded on the breast pockets and olive green trousers with a red stripe down the side of either leg tucked into tall black boots. On the top of their garrison covers that topped their heads they saw a red pentagonal star with the hammer and sickle superimposed in the center. One man in front was carrying a red flag with a yellow hammer and sickle in the upper left hand corner. They knew in an instant who these men were. The men Renton and the others of GekkoState had warned about. The communists who had infiltrated this country. The ones who wanted revolution. The Red Shirts.

One brown-haired man, a member of GekkoState, pointed to the flag bearer and yelled to the civilians standing there in their stupor, "IT'S THE RED SHIRTS! THEY'VE COME! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" In an instant, amidst screaming and shells falling, all turned and ran the opposite way, trying to get away from the Red Shirts. One Red Shirt officer, a brown-haired fiery-eyed twenty-year old named Sergey Pavlenko turned to his men.

"Don't let them get away, comrades! They shall pay for their crimes! After them, comrades! After them!" All roared at the top of their lungs and charged head-on into the retreating crowd, bayonets glinting, rifles cracking, men and women and children falling as they received a bullet through their backs. The GekkoStater ran through the crowd and towards the militia headquarters as fast as he could. He looked through each of the streets as each had their own gruesome scenes of horror and chaos and terror.

Captain Debretskoy, a red-haired clean-shaven young man, led his SOF through the streets, coming in from the west. His SOF soldiers had a different uniform. To mark their status as special operations forces, they wore black long-sleeve shirts instead of the usual red. The shirts had a red hammer and sickle embedded on the breast pocket to make it clearly stand out in the black. Their headgear was black as well, and made the red star stand out more. They charged through the streets with the bayonets fixed on their Mosin-Nagant rifles, each man ready to not just to do or die, but to kill. Debretskoy stopped the battalion as they ran into a crowd that was running toward them, thinking maybe these men were a part of the GekkoState Army. They were dreadfully mistaken. Debretskoy turned to the men of his battalion and gave the fatal orders.

"Battalion, gotovo!" The men brought their rifles to the ready position, their bayonets glinting, the sharp tips pointed straight at the oncoming crowd.

"Tsel'!" They leveled their rifles and aimed at the crowd, who, amidst screams and cries, turned the other way, trying to find another route of escape.

"OGON!" Their rifles flamed as they fired a volley into the crowd, little puffs of smoke coming from the muzzles. The effect was appalling: the entire front line of civilians went down in the consuming blast.

"Renagruzka! Ogon!" They reloaded and fired again, killing more than they did the first time. "Preprovozhdayte, march!" The men lowered their guns to their hips and marched up the street, in pursuit of the retreating civilians. The GekkoStater turned away from the gruesome scene and continued to run. He looked behind them and saw them.

The armored cars.

The cars were Model A Fords lent to the Red Shirts by the local communists and Soviet sympathizers. One car, black in color and with little Soviet flags above the headlights, was gaining on him and a group of others fast. The car windows were lowered and two men with PPSh submachine guns leaned out the window. The driver yelled to them to fire. "There they are! Fire!"

RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!

The high-powered submachine guns slaughtered the group of civilians behind him and started focusing on him. He zigzagged through the streets in order to avoid their fire but he couldn't shake them. The car drifted closer. He had only one chance. As he ran, he drew from his pocket a Colt 45 pistol, given to him by an Army recruiter. He promptly turned and fired, casting bullets through the glass and hitting the driver through the heart. The car swerved out of control and crashed into a wall where the sudden impact caused the engine to explode, leaving the car in flames. The four gunners crawled out from the burning wreckage, their bodies on fire, only to be met by the bullet of the GekkoStater. All four were killed and the GekkoStater ran through the streets toward the militia headquarters as the Red Shirts poured on…

He soon reached the headquarters and found the militia commander, a bearded man in his late forties, sitting at a desk looking over papers.

"Sir! Sir!" the young GekkoStater yelled, panting, out of breath from running, "The Red Shirts are coming! The Red Shirts are coming!" The bearded militia commander stood up immediately.

"The Red Shirts?! Impossible! They wouldn't dare!"

"My word, they are, sir! They're approaching this position! Look for yourself!" He grabbed the bearded man and guided him outside. The bearded man looked through his binoculars and saw civilians running through the streets, shells falling casting civilians into the air, men women and children being shot down by the dozen, followed by a mass of red, a great tidal wave of blood.

"By Washington's wig!" he whispered. He turned to the GekkoStater, scraggly and red in the face from running. He was right. The Red Shirts were coming and coming fast. "ALL PERSONNEL TO DEFENSIVE POSITIONS!" The 750 men, armed with little more than old bolt-action Springfield rifles ran out the streets and took positions in every building, every apartment, every house there was on that street. They leveled their rifles and waited for them to come.

Pavlenko's men were in good spirits. They had the Americans on the run. Vervanev and his Joy Division were coming in from the south, shutting off every route of escape. All they had to do was meet up with Vervanev and the town was theirs. The first victory for the Motherland was closer than ever. They advanced through the streets, the civilians running away in a great mob, and then…

CRACK!

One of his men fell dead and the militia hiding in the houses opened fire. It was weak, coming from old World War One era rifles, but it was heavy enough to pin them down. His men scattered as they tried to pick off each militiaman in the buildings. However, now that they were in the streets, the militia was all around them and Pavlenko's command started to take heavy casualties. He ran through the streets to find the radio operator to call for support. He fired his TT pistol into each window, casting some militiamen out the window and falling to their death on the concrete streets below. Shells hit buildings casting militiamen into the air, and bringing buildings to the ground as if they were rigged for demolition. He soon found a radio operator on a corner and radioed to Dolgorukhov, coming in from the north.

"Dolgorukhov, this is Pavlenko. Come in, over." Static on the radio. "Dolgorukhov, come in; this is Pavlenko requesting support over." More static, but then a crackling voice came through.

"Pavlenko, this is Dolgorukhov. We read you loud and clear. My troops are moving to your position now. In the meantime, try and fight them from house to house. Out." Pavlenko turned to the men of his battalion, to try and rally them to continue on.

"Comrades! Storm the houses! Bayonet every male found and take no prisoners! KILL those American pigs! For the Revolution!" All cheered and returned, "FOR THE REVOLUTION!" Each man charged into every house, killing any and all they found. Even civilians were shown no mercy. Pavlenko and two other men ran up the stairs. They picked off every one they found. On one floor they found an elderly man and his children backed in a corner, shaking in fear.

"Veuillez ne pas me tuer," The elderly man pleaded in French. One man of Pavlenko's group raised his rifle and aimed at the man while another aimed it at one of his children. Pavlenko, his brow furrowed, raised his pistol and aimed it at a child's head. How he hated these Americans. These capitalists. These pigs.

"Polzhar," Pavlenko said commanded in Russian. In an instant, all the men fired and killed the man and his children. There wasn't an ounce of reservation in this merciless act. They were glad they killed them. They ran up the stairs and found two militiamen firing out the window. Pavlenko fired into the head of one and the other quickly turned around. He leveled his rifle and fired at the man to Pavlenko's left, the bullet whipping through his forehead and blood spattering on the wall behind him.

"Die, you fucks, die!" the militiaman screamed as he tried to reload. Pavlenko leveled his pistol and spoke coldly.

"You're the only one that's going to die, American dog."

BANG!

The bullet went through the militiaman's head and fell through the window. Pavlenko looked out and saw Dolgorukhov's men, armed with their rapid-fire PPSh submachine guns, clearing out the houses one by one and in quick succession. Militiamen fell out of windows by the dozen, dead. Some ran out onto the streets hoping to escape only to be shot, dead. Some, wounded, crawled on their hands and knees through the streets only to be shot from behind, through the back of the head, dead. Soon enough, the militia was wiped out, and the all Red Shirts moved out of the buildings and plodded through the streets. All except the dead. Pavlenko, carrying a Soviet banner, guided his men through the streets in pursuit of the retreating civilians. From the east, armored cars rushed through, swiftly killing all that stood in their path, cutting a bloody swath through the already blood-strewn streets. There was no escape. The remaining civilians threw up their hands, getting down on their knees and said, pleading, "We surrender! Just please don't kill us!" Debretskoy and the SOF took a handful of civilians who had tried to resist earlier and dragged them to a corner. The muzzles of the rifles pressed hard on the backs of their heads. Debretskoy gave the order.

"OGON!"

With a few shots, a spatter of blood and a dropping of dead bodies, the resisters were dead. Dolgorukhov turned to his men and led them to town hall, which was now empty; The mayor and his advisors had been shot and killed by the SOF earlier. They ran through the streets and bayoneted some remaining militiamen before they reached the hall. A smiling soldier handed Dolgorukhov a red flag and Dolgorukhov ran up the stairs and onto the balcony of the hall, looking out on the town they had just captured.

The town was one wreck and ruin. It looked to be at least 80 percent destroyed. Buildings were no more than rubble piles and shell holes marred the streets along with the bodies of the civilians they had shot and killed. Dolgorukhov smiled. This was a victory. The prices paid were acceptable losses, but they managed to score the first in what would hopefully be a long string of quick victories in their future war with the Americans and GekkoState. He unfurled the banner and waved it, to the shouts and cheers of the men below, chanting the slogan that had guided them here.

"GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION! GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION! GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION!"

Up in the mountaintops, Dewey calmly looked through his binoculars at Dolgorukhov and the flag fluttering over the town hall. He chuckled quietly. Victory! The first of many! Victory for our Motherland! Victory for our great leader, Comrade Stalin! Victory for the Revolution! Victory! Victory! Victory! He turned to his top intelligence gatherers, the Ageha sisters, all looking to him with wondering eyes.

"Let us go down and greet the troops, da?" he asked the sisters. They all saluted in return.

"Da, Comrade Commissar."

Hours later, the troops were gathered in the square as Dewey stood on a wooden platform, addressing his victorious force. The captured civilians who had not been killed were chained up and forced to listen to the Commissar. They were kept in back and were under the murderous guard of the Joy Division. Anytime one tried to break free, that one was pummeled with hits from the butts of rifles, the cracks of whips, or a soldier's bare fist. They weren't called "Joy Division" for any reason.

"Comrades," Dewey said triumphantly, "Fellow Bolsheviks, friends of the Revolution, we have won today. This is the first of a long string of victories that will follow in this battle's stead! We have finally crossed the Rubicon, and now there is only one direction for us to march: Forward!" The soldiers cheered and gave the Bolshevik salute. "Comrades, this country is dragged on by its fate. Her destiny must be accomplished! This imperialist nation will one day fall, and it is by our actions that it will fall. All capitalists must either join us or die!" Another cheer from the soldiers, who hated the capitalists with all their heart, just as they were taught to do. "Comrades, there are more battles that will follow in the months ahead. This is just the first step to achieving Revolution. In order for our cause to triumph, you all must remain steadfast, battle-ready, unwavering. Pity not the foe! Show the capitalist no mercy!" Another rousing cheer. "We once ruled the world with our vast empire and we can rule the world again! The only thing that stands in our way is America, and all the maggot nations who conspire with her! This country and all others will receive no mercy from the hands of the Bolsheviks! We will show them that we are strong, that we are resolute, that we are prepared and willing to fight and defeat them, even if it takes forever! WE WILL MAKE THEM PAY!!!" A great rousing cheer and the Bolshevik salute followed, and a chanting of the battle cry that had rallied them since they came to these shores…

"GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION! GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION! GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION!"

»»»»»

**GekkoState Headquarters**

**Belleforest, California**

"Gentlemen," Renton said solemnly, "you have had three hours to find out what's happened in Tresoir. I expect results. Lieutenant Sorel?"

Dominic stepped forward to the table and gave his report as calmly as he could.

"There's no mistake. The Red Shirts have finally attacked. From the transmissions we got from our agents, the attack began late in the morning. The militia was poorly prepared for an encounter with the Red Shirts. We also have reports of executions on sight by the Red Shirts."

"Who were they?"

"Civilians, mostly. Men, women, children…there was no discrimination. Their orders were to shoot and kill any capitalist they found; take no prisoners."

"And they followed the order, like the blind fools they are," Renton said knowingly.

"Yes, sir. The transmissions from our agents stopped at around 12 noon, which probably means that our agents were captured or killed by the Red Shirts."

"Did no one survive?"

"Only one agent managed to escape and is currently giving us information," Jane said softly.

"Bring him here. I wish to speak with him."

"Yes, Renton." Jane stepped out the door and quickly came back with the GekkoStater, the brown-haired man. He had cuts and scratches on his face, evidence of a struggle to get out. A particularly bloody struggle.

"Jones," Renton said intently, "tell me what you've seen. What's happened in Tresoir?"

"Oh, Commander," Jones said, evidently at the end of his rope, "They attacked us. The Red Shirts have finally attacked. They came out of nowhere. They attacked us in all directions."

"How many?"

"The entire infantry corps. 4,500 men, I expect. And 25 armored cars."

"Armored cars?" Renton asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

"They are really just ordinary cars with armed men in it," Holland explained.

"Sir," Jones continued shakily, "They took the whole town in less than two hours. And they didn't spare anyone."

"What did they do?" Renton said authoritatively.

"They killed civilians on sight. They didn't spare anyone. They killed the men, the women, the children, anyone they could find. They spared no one."

"What happened to the militia?"

"They're gone," he said uneasily. "All dead." Renton's eyes widened in shock along with everyone else's.

"The whole militia…all of them!?!"

"There was nothing that could be done. We had 750 men trying to stand up to 4,500 Red Shirts! They outnumbered us six to one! We didn't stand a chance! All the roads were cut off; there was nothing left for us to do. They boxed us in."

"Everyone's gone?"

"Everybody. We lost Hutch, we lost Jenkins, Goodwin, Moore…we lost everybody." Renton put his head in his hands and shook his head. This was a terrible loss. The worst part of it was that GekkoState was too few and too far away to help them. He turned again to Jones. He must've suffered so much. The question was: what do we do now? Do we risk a counterattack? Do we stay where we are? What do we do?

"You've done your best, Jones. No one can blame you for that. Get some rest; you deserve it." Jones saluted weakly and stood at attention, clearly tired and battered.

"Yes, sir." He walked out the door and back to the primary living quarters. Renton sighed heavily as he tried to take this all in slowly.

"This is some enemy we're dealing with, Renton," Dominic said grimly.

"Personal annotations aren't going to help us defeat them, Lieutenant."

"Sorry, chief." Renton then turned to Holland, looking pale and seemingly knowing that dark clouds were rapidly gathering. A storm was brewing. This was only the first shot in what would be a long war.

"Holland, what have we done concerning the troops?"

"We've put all militias in the surrounding areas on high alert and our troops here are standing by and waiting for your orders." Renton nodded sagely as he contemplated his options for a few minutes.

"Renton," Jane said, stepping forward next to Holland, "Are you considering launching a counterattack?"

"No. That would be suicide. We don't have enough forces to face the Red Shirts head-on. They outnumber us three to one."

"We ought to do _something_," Holland suggested.

"I know. I know. We're not going to let this pass by any means, but the only question is: what is there that we _can_ do?"

"Permission to speak, Commander," Dominic spoke up.

"Lieutenant."

"I suggest we launch a retaliatory raid on their base. It might strike some fear in them, since they think their base position is unknown. Thanks to our agents in Tresoir and the Army Air Corps observation runs of the area, we have pinpointed their base of operations."

"Interesting," Renton replied, obviously intrigued. "What would our objective be, though?" Holland had an idea form instantly.

"Free prisoners. They will most certainly join our ranks and they can provide us some inside information about the United Bolshevik Force." Renton nodded, thinking carefully about this whole matter. "Besides, I promised Talho I would come back with help. I need to keep my promise." Renton looked up and seemingly knew what Holland meant.

"If promises are involved," he said in a low tone, "then it's good enough for me. We need to formulate a plan on how to get to the base. We'll need some regular forces from the Army to help us."

"The first infantry companies will be arriving here in two weeks," Dominic said immediately. "The Presidio still needs to cover up some last minute logistical problems." Renton nodded as he looked over the three people he had assigned this task. Dominic, the quick-thinking and decisive officer. Holland, steady as a rock and just as hard. Jane, the chief assistant of intelligence, header of the spy network, always open and never afraid to say what was on her mind.

"That'll be enough time for us to plan this raid out. Gentlemen, the first shot has now been fired. The beast has finally emerged from its cave. The war has begun…and from now on, victory is our only option. If we fail in this war, it will mean the destruction of our way of life. The fate of the whole nation is in our hands now, and we can't afford to lose. I expect all of you to work, as all of us do, with sleepless vigilance and unwavering commitment to our goal. You are dismissed." All saluted and left as Renton contemplated what had just happened.

Evil's shroud has fallen. The war had begun, one destined to be more terrible than the last.

* * *

A/N: The war has begun. Great battles lie ahead for our heroes, and many lives may me lost. The shroud of evil has fallen. Here's a preview of the next chapter… 

_Two weeks after the beast makes the first move, the boy and the resistance make their move, and strike the beast's lair. What lies ahead for the boy, the girl, the soldier, his wife and the man?_

**Next Time: Raid**


	9. Chapter 9: Raid

**Chapter Nine: Raid**

**November 7****th****, 1945**

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest**

Eureka had celebrated her 16th birthday only two days before the raid, and she was desperate to ask Renton when to set some time for the conceiving of their child. But there was much more important business to attend to first…

It had all been planned out, down to the last detail. Two companies of regular Army soldiers had crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and were placed under GekkoState jurisdiction, just in time for the raid. Along with Dominic's company, there were 450 regulars in the GekkoState Army now. The plan had been set, mostly by Holland's design.

Near the Red Shirt base in the forest, there was a river which led into the San Francisco Bay. The sailors and Army personnel lent the raiding force some canvas longboats fitted with motors to travel up the river. Once the prisoners were freed, they would be loaded into the longboats and funneled down the river and into the bay. It sounded simple, but it was actually far more complicated; Holland, Dominic and Renton would infiltrate into the base and free the prisoners, masquerading as Red Shirts. Anemone, Eureka, Jane, Seizo and the others would wait for them at the river to come back with the prisoners.

This raid would not accomplish much except freeing prisoners, but it would certainly strike fear into the heart of every Red Shirt.

It was night, the boats were tied up, and Dominic, Holland and Renton were heading for the rear entrance where only one Red Shirt and a sergeant stood on guard.

The Red Shirt had a young face, covered with freckles and brown hair. He was far out in front of the rear entrance, while the sergeant on duty was sleeping by the door. His eyes were dark, brooding, showing a coldness that could only be found in the beast. His eyes darted all over the dark woods. An attack couldn't possible come from the rear but one could not take any chances.

Snap!

He heard something and pointed his Mosin-Nagant into the darkness. He moved forward into the darkness to find where the noise came from. He saw nothing nor did he expect to. No one knew where they were. Or so they thought…

He felt a hand grab around his waist and sharp stiffening in his throat. Holland and Renton had jumped up and started to strangle the Red Shirt with piano wire while Dominic had grabbed his waist to hold him in place. The young Red Shirt soon suffocated and was down. Holland grabbed the Mosin-Nagant and ammunition and slung the rifle on his back while Renton and Dominic were starting for the rear entrance, where the sergeant slept in a chair.

He looked to be no older than 21 by the looks of his face. His garrison cover was pulled lazily over his eyes and he was snoring loudly. The three of them noticed he had a bottle in his hands and they smelled the strong scent of vodka; the sergeant had been drinking heavily. Holland ignored him and moved toward the door, only to find it was locked. Renton silently pointed to the sergeant's belt and saw the keys to the inside. They all nodded and knew in an instant what they had to do. Dominic slowly and carefully began to undo the belt, sweat running down his neck, nervous as hell. The sergeant stirred and all backed away. He only scratched his belly and hiccupped. Renton shuddered in disgust and Holland snickered as Dominic continued to undo the belt. Soon the strap was off and the keys were in Dominic's hands. All breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he turned the key and opened the door.

They were in.

They were in the primary prison compound, right where they needed to be. Everywhere one turned, the walls were covered with propaganda posters, glorifying Lenin or Stalin, or calling the people to action to see "Communism's final triumph." Renton and the others were so incensed they were ready to spit on the posters, or deface them. In front of them sat a panel with buttons and knobs and a closed intercom speaker. Behind the panel was a long hallway with doors which seemed to go on forever, all locked with padlocks. They had found it. Now they knew what must be done.

"This is it," whispered Holland. "This is the place."

"All we gotta do is free the prisoners and get out," Dominic whispered optimistically.

"That won't be so easy," Renton pointed out quietly. "This place is probably crawling with guards. Dominic, you keep watch while me and Holland free the prisoners. If anyone comes, holler out to us."

"You got it, chief." Dominic took cover behind the panel and aimed his BAR down the entrance hallway as Renton and Holland entered the cell hallway.

Renton broke open a glass case on the wall and grabbed a fireman's axe from the case. As Holland slowly opened each of the doors with the keys, Renton chopped off each padlock with the axe. The padlocks were starting to rust and gave way easily. The cell door flew open and he found four prisoners in two bunks. They were very thin and very pale. They hardly had the strength to stand up when Renton entered the cell. One prisoner, a dark-haired wide-eyed 15 year old girl looked to Renton in confusion.

"Get up quickly," Renton said to them. The girl and the other prisoners smirked when they recognized the Red Shirt's foreign tongue.

"I didn't think they allowed foreigners in the U.B.F.," the girl said in a thick Slavic accent. Renton raised an eyebrow and scratched his head in confusion.

"Huh? Oh! The uniform." He removed his garrison cover and revealed his scraggly brown hair. "My name is Renton Thurston, and I'm the leader of GekkoState. I've come here to free you."

"Free us?" The girl and the other prisoners asked in bewilderment.

"Yes. If you come out and help us, we can free the others as well and then take you out of here." There were no objections among the prisoners, of course. They slowly rose and exited the cell, taking the first step to freedom and forever committing themselves to defeating those that imprisoned them. Renton and the four prisoners started breaking away at the padlocks through the axe and the girl's hairpin.

On the other side of the prisoner hallway, Holland unlocked another padlock and slowly opened the door. He found a 17 year old auburn haired boy with torn shoulders sleeping in the bunk. The boy slowly turned over to see a grey-haired goateed Red Shirt. The boy scowled, growling softly. He was not in the mood for another beating.

"Haven't you done enough to me already!?" the boy snapped. Holland smiled and removed his garrison cover revealing who he really was.

"Sascha! That's no way to talk to a friend." Sascha's eyes widened. Could it be? Was it possible that he had come back?

"Holland?" Holland nodded and stepped into the cell and helped Sascha up.

"I've come back to help. I brought Renton with me." Sascha's jaw dropped at the mention of the famous boy's name.

"Renton Thurston?! Where is he?!"

"Come with me, and help me open up the doors." Sascha nodded and got up, following Holland out into the hallway and got to opening the doors left, which were rapidly diminishing with each prisoner that came out to help. As Sascha and Holland started to unlock another door, he remembered something…

Talho.

What had happened to her? What had they done to her? Was she still alive? He had to know. He had to see her. He had to tell her that he kept his promise and came back. He turned to Sascha with a look of concern.

"Sascha, do you know where I can find Talho?" Sascha thought for a moment as he unlocked another door.

"She's at the end, in the last cell in the hallway." Holland immediately took a key for the cell and ran down the hallway, passing by numerous cells that were even now being unlocked. As he ran past each cell, he small scenes, little vignettes straight out of stories long past. He saw Renton being hugged and embraced by numerous prisoners, receiving great praises in Russian. He saw prisoners jumping in the air, grabbing each other, embracing each other in this exuberant of moments, shouting, "We are free! We are free! We are free!" He saw all that and more, but there was no time to focus on the little scenes of rejoice about him.

He soon reached the end of the hallway and found the cell. He fumbled to get the keys into the lock of the door; he was very nervous. Then again, anyone would be during a prison raid. He turned the key and opened the door wide and found her, sitting up in her bunk, looking at the goateed Red Shirt that stood before her.

She looked just the same as when he left the prison. The same short ebony black hair. The same shining brown eyes, rich fertile earth. The same flowery birthmark on her cheek. The same curlicue smile.

"What does the Commissar want of us this time, comrade?" she said sarcastically.

"The Commissar doesn't even know I'm here! We're here to set you and the others free." Talho raised an eyebrow. She didn't trust this Red Shirt; he might be a spy sent by the Commissar.

"We? Who's 'we'? For that matter, who are _you_, comrade?" Holland stepped out of the shadow and into the light, coming closer to the girl he hadn't seen in two years. He knelt down beside her and looked straight into her soul with his sky blue eyes.

"Someone who loves you." Talho's eyes widened when she heard those words. In an instant she knew who this Red Shirt was.

He had come back at last.

Talho threw her arms around the young man's neck and pulled him in to a deep kiss, a silent exchange of "welcome back, good to see you again." He came back. He kept his promise.

"I knew you'd come back," she whispered in his ear. "Did you bring help?"

"I got Renton Thurston and the others with me." Talho pulled back and looked at Holland with seriousness. Renton Thurston? Was that possible?

"Renton Thurston!? Where is he?!"

"Outside. If we hurry we can get out of here before the Red Shirts find out. Come with me."

"Gladly," she said playfully as they hurried out and started to open the other doors, as Renton and the other prisoners were freeing the last captives left, all to the noise of incessant gunfire in the panel room. The Red Shirts had found out.

"EAT LEAD, COMMIE MOTHERFUCKERS!" yelled Dominic at the top of his lungs as he fired his BAR into the oncoming squad of Red Shirts, running down the entrance hallway. The firepower from that one BAR was enough to make all the Red Shirts crawl on the ground and try to get close to the panel. Soon Red Shirt Lieutenant, Ilya Chertov arrived and, with pistol in hand, rallied the Red Shirts on the ground to charge Dominic.

"Comrades! This is just one man! Together, we can stand strong against him and all others like him! Now who will follow me?" The Red Shirts all rose and charged towards Dominic, yelling at the top of their lungs, "Za Stalina!" Dominic put three bullets into Chertov's chest, sending him tumbling to the ground wounded. Just as it looked like he might be overpowered, Renton and Holland arrived and fired into the Red Shirts, killing the whole squad.

"Thanks, chief," Dominic said to Renton, breathing a sigh of relief. "I owe you one."

"Think nothin' of it, Lieutenant. Now let's get out of here before more Red Shirts show up." Talho pointed at a group of figures running down the hallway towards them.

"Here they come!"

"Looks like you spoke too soon, Renton," Holland commented, smiling.

"Enough chit-chat!" Renton snapped. "Let's get outta here before they catch us!"

With that, Renton, Holland, Dominic, Talho, Sascha and more than 50 other prisoners sprinted out the door and left the base. The sergeant on duty had woken up from his drunken state and tried to stop Renton and the others, but he might as well have tried to stop a cyclone. He was kicked in the stomach by Renton and quickly shot by Holland in the face with his Colt 45 pistol. They ran like the dickens through the woods as the moon rose higher into the night sky, the light of God seeming to guide them through the woods and towards the river where the boats were waiting, where Eureka, Anemone, Jane and the rest were waiting.

Inside the compound, Pavel Dolgorukhov barged into the Colonel's office while he was looking over some reports on logistics.

"The prisoners, Commissar! They're gone!" Dewey turned to Dolgorukhov in a rage.

"WHAT?!"

"Three GekkoStaters broke in and raided the base. They've wounded Chertov, and taken all the prisoners with them!" Dewey stood up slowly, his brow furrowed, his eyes twitching, muttering menacingly.

"God above. I'll blind them. I'LL BLIND THEM! Captain, send all available forces after them and capture the GekkoStaters; I want them alive!" Dolgorukhov quickly saluted his commander.

"Da, Comrade Commissar!" He left to dispatch his troops after them. They must not escape!

Immediately Dolgorukhov had rounded up three platoons of Red Shirts, 75 men. They all exited the back way carrying their high-powered PPSh-41 submachine guns and into the moonlit woods, heading for the river. It was the only logical place they would go to.

The prisoners hesitated for a moment as they looked around to try to get their bearings. The moon rose higher in the night sky, reflecting off the river water that was just 300 yards ahead of them.

"Straight ahead!" Renton ordered. "To the river!" All continued to head towards the shimmering light, the dancing diamonds of white light that was the water. Then they saw a body moving towards them, carrying a rifle. The prisoners, afraid it might be a Red Shirt, started to turn and run back but quickly corrected their path when they heard Holland say, "Keep going! It's a friend!" It was a friend all right: it was Sergeant Seizo from Company D. He greeted the three of them with a bright smiling face.

"You did it, fellas. You did it!"

"We did, didn't we?" Dominic said, to the laughter of all. He looked behind him and saw them coming: Red Shirts, not more than 80 coming to where they stood, all armed with PPSh-41 submachine guns. Dolgorukhov's battalion. "It's not over, yet." All resumed running down to the river where the boats were tied up.

They soon found them and ordered Anemone, Eureka, Jane and the others to start cutting the ropes while the men from Dominic's company helped the prisoners into the boats. Four platoons of Dominic's company were deployed in a protective firing line so that they could give covering fire for the prisoners. Soon they saw the Red Shirts come on, their eyes glinting in the moonlight with the polished sparkle of bayonets on a cold autumn day. Then a voice called out.

"There they are comrades! Don't let them get away! Fire!" They opened fire with the rat-tat-tat of submachine gun fire, knocking down a private and a corporal deader than four o'clock in the morning. Dominic gave the order.

"COVERING FIRE!"

In an instant, the night was ablaze with gunfire, lit up with phosphorus tracer bullets, and the incessant burn of powder and smoke. In the night sky, it was hard to distinguish who was winning and who was doing what. It was clear however that the Red Shirts were stopped dead in their tracks and were taking casualties, the first in what would surely be a long war. All the prisoners were inside the boats along with Dominic, Holland and Renton. The said trio was firing out from their seats in the boats, while the rest in there covered their ears for fear of going deaf. It was so dark that one could barely make out the enemy; each time they fired, each was less likely they hit anything. They were probably just shooting into the dark. The only gains that would be made form this waste of ammunition was buying time for the ropes to be cut. That was becoming an academic matter at any rate.

"How are the ropes coming, Eureka?" Renton called out amidst the gunfire.

"Almost through. Just a few more minutes." Dominic took that as a cue to call his company into the boats so that they wouldn't be left behind when the fatal time came.

"DOG COMPANY! FALL BACK!" The men didn't need to be told twice. They rose from the ground and started to withdraw into the boats as the Red Shirts slowly started to gain ground. All were in the boats except the rope-cutters and as the Red Shirts emerged from the woods and into the riverbank, the men in the boats opened up a tremendous fire. In less than five seconds, 20 Red Shirts fell killed or wounded. Some would be seen falling onto the soil of the riverbank; others would be seen falling into the river overboard. Just then…

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

The last rope strands were cut and the cutters jumped into the boats as they started to drift away from the bank and down the river. The firing was even more heated now than it was before; now the regulars in the boats had to provide covering fire while the engines were revved up. That didn't take long. Soon the sound of whirring motors filled the ears of the prisoners, the GekkoStaters, the regular Army forces, the Red Shirts, and all the boats left in a flash, leaving the Red Shirts in the dirt on the riverbank behind them.

As the boats sped away down the river, there arose a great cheer from all in the boats. The prisoners were freed from their slave masters. They were liberated, and all swore their allegiance to the United States and joined GekkoState in a heartbeat. It was only natural to have the former slaves fight against their tyrannical masters. All had their own conversations in the aftermath as they floated gently down the river.

"I told you I'd keep my promise," Holland whispered to Talho, smiling.

"I knew you would," she replied, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Dominic?"

"Yes, Anemone?"

"Why do the communists like the color red so much?"

"No idea."

"Renton?"

"Yes? What is it, darling?"

"What are we going to do now that the prisoners are freed?" Renton thought for a moment. He hadn't considered it much.

"Well…the most we can do right now is to continue our intelligence-gathering, plan out our next move, see what move the Red Shirts make." Eureka laughed quietly and shook her head.

"I don't mean that. I mean what are _we_ going to do now?" Renton raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"I must be missing something, 'cause I'm afraid I don't understand." Eureka knew how to make him understand. She closed her eyes and gave him a deep kiss on the lips, reminding him of a promise that they made a long time ago. When they fought in France. The promise they made shortly after their marriage. Renton smiled, realizing his being slow in the head.

"Oh. That. Eureka…I still want to do this, if you do."

"I do, Renton. More than anything."

"If that's the way you feel, Eureka, than when we come home, we'll start our family." Eureka smiled and kissed him again on the lips, softly. Renton slowly caressed her cheek as the boats floated slowly down the river and as the moon rose higher into the sky. He was celebrating not one but two victories with this simple little act. They not only freed the prisoners and made the raid a success, but now the time for their child was upon them. The start of a being a father. The start of a family. The start of a life that for a long time existed only in daydream and fantasy and imagination. His dream come true.

Renton and Eureka drifted off to sleep, grasping each other's hands tightly and curling themselves up as the cold autumn wind whipped up and the moon rose higher in the sky, casting God's smiling everlasting light on the two lovers.

* * *

A/N: YAY! The prisoners are freed! Take _that_, Dewey! This took me until three in the morning to write but it was sooooo worth it. Here's a preview of the next chapter. 

_The raid is a success, and the beast is now robbed of its source of labor. In the shadow of this small victory the boy and the resistance must now decide what to do next, and the beast plans out their overall strategy for the Revolution._

**Next Time: What Must Be Done**


	10. Chapter 10: What Must Be Done

**Chapter Ten: What Must Be Done**

**November 8****th****, 1945**

**Belleforest, California**

In a small white cot inside a one-floor bungalow in a little valley town in the shadow of San Francisco, a resistance commander and his wife slept peacefully as the autumn dawn shone through the windows. They had fulfilled their promise that night, sealing forever the vows they took more than a year ago in France, back when they were fighting for each other and their friends. Thus the path to parenthood had been taken that night, and in nine months' time, their child would be born.

Renton was the first one to stir and wake to the early autumn dawn shining through the only window in his bedroom. He tried to move but found that Eureka was still in his arms. Her head was resting on his bare chest, sleeping to the beating of his heart. Her left leg crossed his two legs and her left arm lay across his waist, embracing him. It was the most comfortable place either of them had ever been with the other. He smiled at the sight of his beautiful wife, so calm and serene in the face of the daunting challenges that lie ahead. What had happened that previous night was probably the most wondrous thing neither of them would ever forget. Renton did not know much when it came to matters of the heart and the flesh, apart from what his father told a long time ago when he asked how he was born. He had a basic idea of sex, but never fully understood what it was one was supposed to do. But that night…

Somehow it all came to him naturally. Somehow Renton knew how to caress her, to hold her, to love her, and to be tender with her in all the right ways. To them, it was the most wonderful feeling the world. They wouldn't trade it for anything else.

Renton turned as best he could to his nightstand and looked at his clock. Seven thirty in the morning. He had to meet with Holland and the other commanders in order to plan their next move on the Red Shirts. Thanks to the information given by the prisoners and spy network, finding where to strike next shouldn't be too hard. They were growing larger in numbers, too; the last tally showed that the GekkoState Army, along with the regular Army forces lent to them, now stood at almost 3,000. They could fight the Red Shirts in a set-piece battle if they wanted, but Renton had a much more elaborate plan. In order to put forth his plan, he had to get up.

He untwisted his legs and slid them out from under hers, then slowly lifted Eureka's arm off his midsection and laid it at her side, never once waking her. How strange it seemed that even though so many things could upset her and even in the face of evil, she could seem so calm. He darted his eyes at the door. It was slightly open, but not enough for anyone to see them. A good thing, too. He was fearful of the reaction of Holland if he saw them. Of course Holland knew they were planning on having children some day, but Renton was still unsure of what he would say. Renton put that out of his mind, trying to focus on the plan for today. He rose, and quietly walked out the door to the shower room, while Eureka slept peacefully, dreaming…

She stood on a great plain on a bright sunny day. There was not a cloud in the deep blue sky above her. She looked to her left and to her right and saw long lines of men standing shoulder-to-shoulder in colorful uniforms like armies in days of old, standing under fluttering banners, cheering, yelling. Volleys of musketry roared, breaking the stillness on the plain. Cannons were booming in all direction, the ground erupting from beneath, sending earth into the air. The field soon became covered with thick white smoke and the incessant smell of gunpowder. She looked around through the smoke-strewn fields, searching for anyone she could. Renton, Holland, Anemone, Dominic, anyone. Then she saw him.

There stood Renton dressed in an old Civil War uniform sitting on a great white stallion, the sun shining through the smoke of battle. He waved his saber, glinting in the sun, urging his men on. As he urged his men on, he recited a poem from one of his many books, one she had heard him say before. That poem by Lovelace. That sweet, wonderful, terrible, beautiful, sad poem…

_Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind _

_That from the nunnery _

_Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, _

_To war and arms I fly. _

_True, a mew mistress now I chase, _

_The first foe in the field; _

_And with a stronger faith embrace _

_A sword, a horse, a shield. _

_Yet this inconstancy is such _

_As you too shall adore; _

_I could not love thee, dear, so much, _

_Loved I not honor more. _

He waved his sword once more and all the men behind him surged forward, following him into the smoke, towards the unseen enemy, onward, until they were out of sight.

She woke up, and saw him dressing himself in front of the mirror.

"You're up early," she said. He jumped and turned around, letting his knickerbockers fall to the floor, leaving him in his boxers, his long socks and black Oxford shoes. He smiled lovingly at the sight of his darling wife, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, grey eyes glinting in the early autumn dawn, covering herself in a bed sheet.

"Have to be," he said quietly. "All part of being a commander." She laughed quietly when he said that. "How are you feeling today, dear?"

"Very well, thank you. How about you darling?"

"I'm all right," he said softly as he pulled up his trousers, for fear that someone would barge in unexpectedly. "Thank you for an amazing evening."

"No thank _you_, my dear Renton. It was wonderful." Renton walked to her side of the cot and gave her a light kiss on the cheek, which produced a soft chuckle in reply. Renton looked into her wondrous grey eyes with his piercing green, with a strange sense of wistfulness and depression over something neither she nor he could begin to contemplate.

"I'm sorry, darling. We have a lot of work to do today."

"Let me come with you."

"You'll have to get dressed first, and I don't want anyone to know what happened in this room last night."

"Why do you say that, darling?" she said, smiling empathetically, caressing his cheek. "Are you ashamed of what we did?"

"I'm not. I only fear what Holland or the others may say."

"They'll understand perfectly, dear, believe me; we've been married for more than a year now, so who's to say what we should or shouldn't do?"

"I guess you're right; still, we should at least let Holland know."

"He'll find out. He has a way of seeing and knowing." Renton nodded. Holland was always intuitive and could spot things quickly. He would know in short time and, knowing him for the good kind friend that he was, he would probably understand.

"I'll be back when I can, darling. We have important work to do today." Eureka nodded and smiled, kissing him sweetly and softly on the lips, reveling in the memory of that wonderful feeling of last night. The feeling of togetherness at last, a union long overdue, the utmost expression of devotion and love for one another.

Renton quickly slipped on his white shirt and tucked it in, pulling the red suspenders over onto his shoulders and stepped out the door. Eureka fell onto the bed, quietly laughing to herself, rethinking over everything that had happened to them, contemplating over the wondrous thing they had done that night.

Renton went into the general living area and looked over the maps of the Bay Area, spread out all over, and put up on boards with pushpins and nails, wondering where they would strike next. They already had control of Tresoir, 25 miles to the north. They would most likely strike towards the coast to the west and capture the surrounding towns to secure their position: Ciudades del Cielo, Cashville, Bothaburg, and Porbayevsk. Then they would advance south down the main road to San Francisco, capture the city, then march north to Sacramento to force the state government to give in. If California fell to the Bolsheviks, then the other states would fall one by one until finally America gave in and became a Bolshevik state. A domino effect, one might say.

"Good morning, Commander," said a voice from behind him. He turned to see Holland flanked by Talho and Sascha, both of whom had been assigned posts in Holland's militia. Behind him followed Dominic, dressed in his army outfit followed by Jane in her usual blue skirt and pink ribbon in her hair, carrying folders and files.

"Good morning," Renton returned. Renton and the chiefs-of-staff gathered around the large circular table to plan out the next strategy.

"Are we all here?" asked Renton.

"Anemone is unable to attend," Dominic spoke up, adjusting his garrison cover. Renton paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating something.

"Well, if Anemone is not coming, let us begin. Perhaps I should start by congratulating you all on the successful raid two nights ago…" There was a small cheer from the chiefs-of-staff, except Jane who only nodded silently. "…however, that being done, we need to plan out now how to go about pushing the Red Shirts back. It seems to me that their overall plan is to capture San Francisco and then force the state government to give in to their demands."

"Over our dead bodies," Dominic muttered defiantly. Renton smiled. Dominic. Always with his dander up. He would prove invaluable in this war.

"Anyway, I wanted to know all of your suggestions of how to push the Red Shirts back." Holland adjusted his yellow ascot and spoke.  
"One of the things we ought to keep in mind always throughout whatever strategy we choose is to keep their route to San Francisco closed. If ever the road should be opened up to them, we must find a way to block their path. They must not be allowed to reach San Francisco." Renton nodded thoughtfully. A good sound plan.

"Agreed."

"We should also try to keep them in the north," Dominic suggested. "If they strike at any of the towns further south, they'll have another recruiting pool. We must keep them contained in the north until we tighten the hold on them until they no room left." Renton nodded.

"All of the militias in the north are now on high alert," Holland broke in. "So any attempt to attack will be met with stiff resistance. We ought to move our forces northwards to reinforce the militias there."

"At which town?" Holland looked over on the map. He pointed to a little dot on the map, about 15 miles from Belleforest.

"Here…in Controrado." Renton's eyes widened at the mention of the name.

"What's the matter, Renton?" Jane asked, concerned.

"I spent part of my childhood in that town. My uncle lives there…commands the militia."

"Well," Holland said with a smile, "won't he be surprised to see you?"

"I bet he's as ardent a patriot," Dominic said smiling. Renton shook his head knowingly.

"Too ardent, if you ask me…" All laughed and then switched back to the important business. "Can we move the troops there, Lieutenant? Is it possible?"

"Sure. The transport trucks will be here tomorrow so we can start our deployment north."

"The loaned regular Army forces can move by truck, but I think the GekkoState forces ought to march on foot." Holland nodded in agreement. "The regular Army forces are much better at this kind of thing than we are. They can hold off any attack for a lot longer; we still need to train our forces."

"Besides," put in Holland, "we can pick up more new recruits if we march." All nodded and mumbled in agreement. "That still leaves the question of how to attack the Red Shirts."

"Don't attack yet!" Talho and Sascha interjected. "They are far too numerous and they have more supplies and arms than we. The last thing we should do is attack them head-on." Renton turned to the two recently freed prisoners. He respected them, and recognized that they knew the beast inside and out, and all should heed their words.

"If they have more supplies," Renton suggested, "then perhaps we ought to attack where they keep their supplies. We should attack where they are getting their reinforcements from. Dominic, send word to the Presidio to station troops in all nearby ports. We can't take any chances." Dominic clicked his heels and saluted promptly.

"Yes, sir." Holland turned to Talho and pointed to the map.

"Talho, to the best of your knowledge, where do they keep their supplies?" Talho looked over the map and saw it immediately. She pointed to a part of the Marin headlands on the map with her thin forefinger with such force that the rickety table shook.

"There," she said with resolve. "In Sutter Pass, in the northwestern headlands." Renton closely examined the spot on the map. It was about 20 miles northwest of Belleforest. Once they reached the villages further north, they can split up the forces and strike at Sutter Pass and then link up at one of the towns east of the pass. Sascha pointed to a small island east of the port of Sausalito with a trembling bruised finger. The island stood some ways from the twin islands of Tiburon and Belvedere. Although it seemed small on the map, the name it possessed was far more forbidding: Devil's Island.

"The Red Shirts have a radio station and observation post on that island. If we make a move, we will surely be discovered. We need to eliminate that radio station before we do anything else." Renton nodded, seeing the truth clearly through the eyes of a self-taught strategist. It was unwise to march when the enemy knew where you were heading. One of the key elements of waging a successful war is not letting the enemy know what you are doing but always know what the enemy is doing. He turned to Dominic, seeing in his grey eyes that desire to prove Dog Company in combat proper. He would be more than a match for any Red Shirt commander on that island.

"Lieutenant Sorel, I'm assigning you and Dog Company to capture the island. We will not be able to move out unless the radio station and observation post are captured. Move your troops to Sausalito and make an amphibious assault on the island. Knock out the radio station and observation post and eliminate all resistance by any means necessary." Dominic nodded sternly, knowing what it was that must be done.

"My company will move out tomorrow." Renton nodded and turned back to the map, tracing his finger along the narrow lines that represented the crisscrossing roads, great veins that carried the blood of the nation to all points and beyond.

"After we've set up headquarters at Controrado, we should divide the force and send one section to Sutter Pass. Once the supply dump is captured, our forces should link up at this town here…" Renton pointed on the map, "…Bothaburg."

"Bothaburg?" Jane said in confusion.

"German immigrants; what other name do you expect?" Jane nodded silently. "The Red Shirts will most likely strike the towns of Porbayevsk, Ciudades del Cielo and Cashville in order to secure their position. Once we have enough manpower to bear against the Red Shirts, we will take the towns one by one and finally advance on their base of operations."

"We don't seem to be allowing much room for discourse," Jane said quietly under her breath. All eyes turned to her incredulously. "Why is it that we can't negotiate with them?"

"They've already attacked us, Jane!" Dominic protested, seeing this through a military eye. "Negotiation now would make us look weak."

"It pains me to see that the first option we use is always the use of military force," Jane said sardonically, flipping her bright golden hair.

"We have no choice, Jane Hart!" Holland said firmly. "The Soviet Union has practically declared war on us already, so there is nothing left for us to do but to fight."

"And bring more suffering to this town? To this country?"

"I think you ought to consider if we'll even _have_ a country if we let the Soviets get their way!" Dominic disputed.

On and on the arguing went, as Renton, tired and utterly exhausted and wishing to continue with the meeting took this all in unpleasantly. Jane might pose a problem to this cause. He would deal with her later.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Renton shouted at the top of his lungs. All eyes widened at Renton and his momentary outburst. "Whatever differences you may have may be worked out privately, but right now we have more important things to do! I did not want to hold this conference so we could argue; we are here to plan our strategy and that's it. All this bickering is not going to do us any good! We can all settle our personal vendettas later. So help me, if I see this kind of behavior at a meeting again, you'll all be demoted! Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?!" Silence. They were still in a numbing state of shock. "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

"Yes, sir," all returned quietly.

"Very well then," he said silently. "Are there any more questions or concerns?" No one spoke up. "If that be the case, you are dismissed." All saluted and headed out the door except Holland who came to personally talk to Renton. He seemed so much different than his ordinary self today, he thought. He seemed even more commanding than he was in France, or even in the war games of long past. He seemed more…resonant and imposing than he had known him to usually be.

"Is something going on, Renton that I should know about?" Renton looked at him confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You just seemed…_different_ today. Is there any reason?"

"No real reason, Holland. I just wish that there could be less bickering and more reasonable discourse whenever we hold a meeting.

No, it's something else about you Renton. I don't know, but I can sense something different about you today."

"Well…" Renton paused. Eureka was right. Holland did have a way of seeing through people. Immediately he began to wonder. Should I tell him? Should I tell him about what she and I did? About last evening? Will he be angry at me or Eureka if I did? All these thoughts zipped through his mind as he contemplated his options until Holland spoke again.

"You and she didn't do what I think you did, did you?" Renton turned to him wide-eyed. How could he have known? He did have a way of seeing through people, but all the same…how?

"Call it a lucky guess," he said again.

"How?" Renton asked, ready for whatever Holland was to say to him. Instead of a tirade which was what he expected, Holland chuckled and crossed his arms.

"You needn't worry, my friend; I'm not angry with either of you in the least. You two are married now and I can't really tell you what you can and cannot do. But all the same…do be careful." Renton sighed, relieved. He knew that Holland would understand, like the good friend and brother-in-law he was. He smiled.  
"We will; I promise."

"I know you will, moj drug."

»»»»»

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest**

In the war room of the hidden base of the United Bolshevik Force, all the officers argued over what to do now that the main labor force of the army was gone.

"It's quite clear," said Dolgorukhov, "that we must look to another village for more laborers. Without the laborers, we will not be able to build strong enough defenses to combat any attacks made by GekkoState or the United States Army."

"We are having a difficult enough time trying to keep the people of Tresoir in line!" Pavlenko protested. "If we are to look for more sources of labor, we will have to string out our forces to keep order among the populations."

"Nevertheless, we must keep looking for labor to build defenses against GekkoState and—"

"Any attack made by GekkoState or the Army would be a useless gesture, no matter how many new recruits they have gained. Our army is now the most powerful force in the United States. I suggest we use it."

"Calm down, comrades," the Colonel ordered. "Now it is true that we have lost our primary source of labor, and we will not let this injustice pass! Dolgorukhov, I am afraid I must side with Pavlenko. We need to keep some of our forces in the villages we have already captured to control the populations." Dolgorukhov furrowed his thick eyebrows.

"Pardon me for objecting, Comrade Commissar, but don't you agree that part of our purpose here is to spread the Revolution? If that be so, then one thing we need the most is the force of labor. If we have more laborers, we are not only capable of building more defenses, but we will have more recruits to draw from."

"I agree," the Colonel said calmly. "If we are to continue our revolution, we will need to keep our force of labor. All the troops now stationed in the villages will recruit anyone they can find into the labor force…by any means necessary." All the officers nodded firmly. Dewey then cast an icy blue eye to the map of the Bay Area on the board. "In the meantime, we should plan our strategy for further carrying out the Revolution. I wish to hear your suggestions…" Dolgorukhov looked up.

"Sir, Comrade Lieutenant Chertov has come up with a viable plan." Dewey recognized the young lieutenant with an indicative nod. Chertov stood up and walked over to the large map and read from his written plan.

"Now that we have captured the town of Tresoir, we are now in an excellent position to carry out the Revolution to the other towns here in the north. In order for our advance south to San Francisco and eventually our march to Sacramento to be possible, we must first capture all towns to our east, thus securing our position in the north. The towns that will be captured and used as sources of labor are as follows…" Chertov turned to the map and pointed to the cities as he read them off. "…Ciudades Del Cielo, Porbayevsk, Cashville and Bothaburg. In order to maintain the security of the towns captured, it will be necessary to detach an occupying force from the main body while the rest of the forces continue to assault the surrounding towns. Once all towns in the north have been captured and secured, the whole of the United Bolshevik Force will advance southwards, taking the towns of Controrado, Belleforest, Sausalito, etc., crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and taking the city of San Francisco by storm. From there, we will then turn northwards and march on Sacramento and force those in power to concede to our demands, thus completing the Revolution in this state and ensuring the future success of the Revolution in the United States." Dewey nodded, obviously intrigued and enthralled with the plan.

"Excellent work, Comrade Lieutenant Chertov," he said with a smile. "Your plan is approved. It is the best I have seen among the many proposed by the lower officers."

"Thank you, Comrade Commissar." Chertov took his seat next to Dolgorukhov with a great smile on his face, reveling in his little triumph.

The Colonel turned again to the map, looking closely on the towns that Chertov had mentioned. He saw the first town on the path east: Ciudades del Cielo. Who would he send to secure the town? He rubbed his chin, seemingly contemplating something. He smiled, having something, and then turned to the red haired Boris Debretskoy, the flamboyant commander of the SOF, the Special Operations Force.

"The first town that must be captured is the town of Ciudades del Cielo. Comrade Captain Debretskoy…" Debretskoy shot up at attention. "…I am charging you with the capture of the town. We have reports that there is a resistance movement there and we cannot afford to have them face us along with the militia. Your orders are to eliminate all resistance by any means necessary. Drive the capitalists from the city; bayonet every male found…take no prisoners. Understand?" Debretskoy adjusted his officer's cap and saluted his commander firmly.

"Da, Comrade Commissar. My troops will be moving out once we are re-supplied and reequipped." Dewey smiled and rubbed his gloved hands as he paced back and forth.

"Good…good…excellent work, comrades. In a few days, the Revolution will be completed in the north." He then contracted his hand into the Bolshevik salute and concluded the meeting with the old fanatic cry: "Glory to the Revolution!"

"Glory to the Revolution!" all the officers returned. They rose from their desks and shuffled out, thinking over in their heads the plan that had just been approved, how ingeniously it would work, how the Revolution that Lenin dreamed for would be perfected.

Of course, they failed to consider one thing: the enemy that faced them.

As the old adage goes, "No plan survives contact with the enemy"…

* * *

A/N: Whew. It took me until 1:30 in the morning to write that. But it was worth it. I'm sorry I didn't submit sooner: I've been having a hard time in school for the last two weeks. Anyway here's the preview of the next chapter: 

_The soldier, his wife and the men of his company assault a far-flung possession of the beast from the sea and attempt to take it by storm so the Resistance may advance northwards, but will they take it in enough time to spare?_

**Next Time: Attack at Devil's Island**


	11. Chapter 11: Attack at Devil's Island

**Chapter Eleven: Attack at Devil's Island**

**8:30 am, November 10****th****, 1945**

**Sausalito, California  
**

Lieutenant Dominic Sorel stood in the pier before boarding the LCVP boats, (A/N: Landing Craft, Vehicle, Personnel) or "Higgins boats" as they were called by the men, inspecting the men of his Dog Company, 150 men strong. Next to him stood his fiery-tempered pink-haired wife Anemone, who had forced him to take her on the mission. She said to him,

"You're the one that's always done the fighting. I think it's time I fight beside you."

Dominic's Dog Company was made up of some of the best trained men in the Presidio, and had some of the best platoon sergeants. There was First Sergeant Dan Seizo, head of the first platoon and Dominic's second-in-command. There was Staff Sergeant Ronald Hitchens, commander of second platoon, a scruffy brown-haired man who always seemed to carry _Napoleon's Maxims of War_ wherever he went. There was then Sergeants First Class Harold Walcott and Fred Hancock, commanders of third and fourth platoons, two tall imposing barking soldiers that were never seen apart from each other, brothers in all but name. Finally there were Master Sergeant John Philips, a soft-spoken blonde-haired man who cared deeply for his platoon and Staff Sergeant Jack Susan, a man who cared for nothing but his men, his farm, his horses and his wife. Most were men in their late teens and early twenties, some of whom were veterans of the brutal fighting in the Pacific. They had seen what war could do. They knew the importance of fighting for what is right.

"Now, men," Dominic spoke firmly to his company, his wife at his side, "this is it: armed combat toe-to-toe with the Russkies. Now I know a lot of you have personal feelings about going into combat against the Soviets. But we're just gonna have to put that aside for now. Commander Thurston and the rest of GekkoState are counting on us; we can't let them down. And if this turns out to be as important as I think it is, well…there're sure to be commendations and medals for all of you, regardless of your background or belief. Remember your training, and remember this: when you hit the beach, you'll have only two friends: God and the man next to you. Now let's move out."

With a cheer and a "hip-hip-huzzah" for the Lieutenant and his wife, they boarded the Higgins boats and started out for Devil's Island…

Devil's Island was a very small and desolate island that sat a ways from the twin islands of Tiburon and Belvedere in Richardson Bay. Even though it was miniscule compared to the surrounding islands, it stood formidable; it was dominated by high cliffs overlooking pebble beaches, totally uninhabited, except for a detachment of 8 Red Shirt platoons, 25 men each, guarding the radio station and observation post, which stood tall on the summit of the island. The only way to get up the cliffs was to climb; the Higgins boats were armed with high-powered rocket launchers that fired grappling hooks fitted with ropes so the men could climb up the cliffs. There was no other way to get up top.

They sped toward the beach at a mean speed of about 25 miles per hour. The air was cold, the wind high, the fog heavy, but their spirits high.

Dominic and Anemone stood side by side in one of the Higgins boats, Dominic clutching his BAR and barking out last-minute orders, and Anemone looking about the men in the Higgins boat.

"All leaders report in," Dominic called through the pounding waves. The platoon leaders called out the numbers of their respective platoon in decreasing order, one after the other.

"Dog Six, standing by."

"Dog Five, standing by."

"Dog Four, standing by."

"Dog Three, standing by."

"Dog Two, standing by."

"Dog One, standing by."

Anemone smiled and played on the routine with her own roll call.

"You forgot one."

"Who did I forget?" Dominic asked, bewildered.

"Dog wife, standing by." All the men in the boat laughed as Dominic kissed her lovingly on the cheek before turning to the men again.

"Dog Company, listen up! Commander Thurston and the others are counting on us to knock out the radio station and OP on those cliffs! Move fast, get topside, and get the job done!" He faced the opening of the Higgins boat, clutching his BAR close to him, staring only at what could possibly be outside those steel barriers. A call from the drivers of the boats.

"30 SECONDS, FELLAS! GOD BE WITH YOU!"

"This is it, boys. Remember your training. Keep cool and keep moving. Get up those cliffs as fast as possible."

"YES, SIR!" All the men barked. Anemone laughed in spite of herself at all this as the boats came closer and closer and closer to the beaches. Then, one man, a clean-shaven corporal was immediately shot through the head, probably by a sniper stationed on the cliffs, soon followed by a scruffy looking private. That was their cue to duck.

"Incoming!" Dominic called out. "Get down!" The boats came ever closer to the shore as the men shouted out last minute words.  
"Brace yourselves!"

"Get ready, boys!"

"This is it!"

"FIRING ROCKETS!" The drivers shouted. There followed a loud noise which sounded to be an explosion, and Anemone looked up to see the grappling hooks being fired into the air and against cliffs, flying through the sky, great birds. The men stood up and the ramps were lowered. Dominic blew his whistle hard and yelled,

"MOVE OUT! LET'S GO! LET'S GO!" The men of his company ran out from the boat and into the hands of fate on the deadly beaches.

A long-range mortar shell hit the Higgins boat and as Anemone started out of the boat, it exploded and flung her into the water. She crawled ashore and looked about her in bewilderment, trying to discern what was happening. The explosion caused her to go temporarily deaf, so there was hardly noise of battle or gunfire. All she could hear was a low rhythmic beat, the pulses of her temples and the low pounding of her heart. Everything looked blurred, but she could see enough, and what she saw filled her with the utmost of shock and terror.

She looked to her left and saw no more than 40 men running out of a Higgins boat onto the shore, coming in contact with machine gun fire from atop the cliffs. Three men went down with a red flash from where they were hit, and then a mortar shell fell on top of a squad, killing all. The mortar was soon followed by another, blowing up the Higgins boat and setting it on fire. Three men ran out of the inferno, their bodies on fire, until they were shot or simply fell down dead, fatally wounded from the blast. She felt a tug on her shoulder and turned to see Corporal James Smith, one of the bright-eyed men of Dog Company, looking down at her and clutching his helmet.

"I got you, Mrs. Sorel," he said, sounding slightly muffled to the stunned girl. "You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be just fine." Smith proceeded to drag her to a safe distance away from the beach, behind a rock. Anemone, still stunned and dazed, looked to see a medic carrying a wounded man on his back, following her. It wasn't long before a burst of machine gun fire ripped through them with more than a dozen bullets, sending them to the ground. Anemone was pulled up by Smith and her hearing and sight gradually came back completely.

Smith left her as she tried to discern where to go. She couldn't see Dominic anywhere, so she tried to go for one of the ropes. She briskly ran across the beach, picking up a sniper rifle along the way and came to the rope, all the while listening to the calls and cries of men and officers on the beaches. There was a whole squad of men standing in line in front of the rope, and the sergeant in charge, a tall middle-aged brown-haired man turned to her.

"This rope's full! Move down the line! Go down to the next one!"

She lingered a bit to look around and up at the men slowly climbing up the cliffs by the ropes. She heard the familiar voice of Sergeant First Class Walcott yelling at the squad sergeant.

"Son of a…Sergeant! Get those men up the cliffs now! Anemone, move down to the next rope! We already got enough guys down here!"

She proceeded to move to the left and try to find an empty rope, hopefully with Dominic in it. Her ears were bombarded with calls and orders from different people, calling to watch out for something or trying to rally the men to get up the cliffs.

"Watch out for grenades! Watch out for grenades!"

"Get going, dammit! Get up that cliff!"

"Stop holding up the line! Keep moving!"

"Machine guns! Top of the cliffs!"

At that call Anemone dropped down and looked through the scope of her sniper rifle, trying to spot an MG nest. This would be the first shot taken by her, the first blood, but if it meant a peaceful life in the end with her Dominic, she was willing to carry the sin. She soon found an MG crew behind a pile of sandbags and lined up the sights. Her finger slowly squeezed the trigger as she said a private prayer of forgiveness.

Oh Lord, forgive me, for I have sinned. Oh Lord, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Crack!

The machine gunner fell over the cliff dead and out of her sight. The first blood on her hands. Lord, forgive me. Lord, forgive me. Lord, forgive me. She darted her sight across the cliff and picked off any Red Shirt she saw. A red bloody flash. A topple over the cliff. Another plea for forgiveness. She had picked off about five Red Shirts and started to move down the beach to find Dominic, all the while listening to the cacophony of noise and gunfire and yelling and screaming.

She ran across the beach, the sand getting in her shoes, the rifle stowed on her back, toward an empty rope where she saw a familiar-looking figure.

Dominic.

He was clutching his helmet and barking to the men, encouraging them to climb the ropes while trying to talk out his thoughts to Seizo, in order to keep him calm. He turned and saw Anemone running, her orange and white dress swaying, sand clinging to her bare lower legs and shoes. She ran to him, and caught him in an embrace.

"Anemone, thank God you're safe. Don't ever try to go by yourself again!"

"I'm sorry, Dominic; I got lost." Dominic gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and turned to the rope.

"Anemone, I need you to get up this rope to the top of the cliff. Wait for me once you get there." She nodded and started to climb the rope as she heard the continuing mixed conversations and yelling of men.

"We gotta get more men up top!" Dominic called to Seizo. "The Red Shirts are killin' us down here!"

"Defilade! Up against the cliffs!"

"The tide's moving in! Find a rope and get up there!"

"GET UP THOSE CLIFFS OR YOU'LL DIE DOWN HERE!"

"You wanna be left behind?!?!" Anemone looked down to see Dominic grabbing a private by his shirt collar and dragging him to the rope.

"I'M NOT PLANNING ON SAVING YOUR ASS! NOW GET UP!" Anemone laughed quietly at seeing Dominic yell at a soldier as she continued to slowly work up the ropes.

"GO! GET THE LEAD OUT!"

"Get up that rope to the top of the cliff! We gotta get up there and take out the radio station!"

She reached the top and found five soldiers firing at an unseen enemy. One soldier, a private-first-class, called out to the others to keep moving.

"LET'S GO GET THE BASTARDS!" The five men surged forward and out of her view as she panned to see Seizo looking over a platform with what looked to be some logs made to look like a mortar. Seizo turned to Dominic who had just arrived on top.

"Lieutenant Sorel! The mortars are gone! They're not here!" Dominic's eyes widened. One of their jobs was to knock out the long-range mortars being used by the Red Shirts. How could it be possible that they weren't here all this time!?

"WHAT?!"

"THE MORTARS…AREN'T…HERE! The Reds must've moved them someplace else!" Dominic tried to think for a moment and then turned to the platoon leaders gathering around him.

"Well, hell, keep moving! We're a bunch of sitting ducks out here! Head for Rally Point Able and set up the roadblock. We can look for the radio station and OP from there."

Seizo nodded firmly and started forward to join his men in the Red Shirt-built interconnected trenches, firing on Red Shirts coming down from a lane.

"Dominic," Anemone said turning to her husband, "where am I in all of this?" Dominic looked into her soft lavender eyes with his stern grey and gave her the answer.

"You are no more than three feet behind me, and there is no negotiation about that." Anemone nodded and followed Dominic into the trenches as he followed the men of his company, surging forward through the trenches, approaching a Red Shirt secondary firing line.

"C'mon!" Dominic called. "Let's get some fire on that commie line!"

"Jeez!" a corporal yelled, killing an oncoming mob of Red Shirts with his Thompson. "There's Reds all over the place!"

"Cut 'em down! Watch for those trenches!"

They stopped, hiding behind piles of crates or any cover they could find, firing at the Red Shirts no more than 150 yards away. Both sides were now entrenched and firing nonstop at each other. 15 Red Shirts were stationed behind piles of sandbags, mostly riflemen and submachine gunners covering a Degtyaryova Pekhotnyi or DP machine gun. Dominic looked around to see if there wasn't any way they could get around them, and he soon saw a trench lane, falling alongside them some ways from the firing line. All he had to do was pin the Red Shirts down with suppressing fire and then sidestep to the left and fire on their flank. It sounded simple, but it was risky; they were only a short distance away, so they might risk taking casualties. All the same, there didn't seem to be another way to get around them. He turned to Seizo, Hitchens and Walcott spoke firmly and with intent.

"Seizo! Hitchens! Walcott! I need you to give me some suppressing fire while the rest of the company moves to the left. Wait for my command." They didn't have much choice in the matter anyway. "SUPPRESSING FIRE!" Hitchens', Seizo's and Walcott's platoons opened up on the Red Shirts behind their sandbags, and soon enough their fire began to slacken. That was Dominic's cue to take the rest of the company around to the left.

"Fourth, fifth, sixth platoons! On me!" The men of the fourth fifth and sixth platoons followed Dominic and Anemone around and into the lane and found themselves sitting on the flank of the Red Shirts. Before Dominic even gave the order, the men fired a tremendous volley into the flank of the Red Shirts, killing half of them. Anemone, of her own notion, pulled a grenade off Dominic's uniform (much to his surprise) and pulled the pin.

"HEY COMMIES! YOU HUNGRY? HOW'S ABOUT A SNACK OF THIS?"

She threw the grenade into the sandbags with all her might. It detonated, and sent the remaining Red Shirts hurling to the sides and up into the air, cast like rag dolls.

"Good throw Anemone," Dominic said, congratulating her. "Let's move up!"

The company rose from their trenches and ran on through the mist-strewn field and towards a small cluster of abandoned houses where there were sure to be Red Shirts.

The Red Shirts out in front were too few and powerless to stop the men of Dog Company. Red Shirts scrambled, trying to man a machine gun, to make some sort of stand to stop the oncoming tide of American soldiers.

One squad from Dog Company charged headlong into a manned DP machine gun, charging as in days of old. Three men from the eight man squad fell in a hail of bullets, but the others refused to waver and plodded on, one throwing a grenade at the MG and killing the gunner. They refaced the machine gun and literally mowed down a whole squad of Red Shirts coming straight at them from the abandoned village.

Three Red Shirts armed with Mosin-Nagant rifles stood tall against the mist and fired continuously into the oncoming mass of soldiers. Dominic and Anemone dropped down into a trench and Dominic fired out into the open, ordering Anemone to stay down. He aimed the sight of his BAR at one Red Shirt dressed in a long olive green overcoat with a hammer and sickle armband on the right sleeve of his coat. He fired three times and sent two bullets through the Red Shirt's neck, sending him to the ground, squirming.

"Ha! You think Stalin cares if you die!?" Dominic called out to the Red Shirts still standing. Seizo's men came up behind Dominic and fired, sending the two remaining Red Shirts down and all rose and moved forward amidst small arms and mortar fire to a deep depression in the earth where they could regroup and get resituated. Dominic, Anemone and the platoon leaders were now all in the depression and were sheltered from a very strong firing line of Red Shirts, 25 men strong.

Corporal Smith got on the radio and called the long range artillery, giving them the firing coordinates as told by Seizo, who was always entrusted with the map of any area, lest Dominic get them lost.

"Mike battery! This is Dog One for fire mission over! TRP: Zero! Three! Four! Point Fuse. Fire for effect!"

"Everyone keep your heads down!" Dominic ordered. All stayed in a prone position in the depression as the rest of the company started to gather together and take cover behind anything they could, amidst the distant rumble of artillery in the distance. There was a sound of a whoosh over their heads and then…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Artillery shells reigned hell over the Red Shirts, knocking out the firing line in one short bombardment. The heavens above seemed to open up with a great hellfire, giant flames rising into the air, the destructive hand of God reigning down on the souls of the wrong. It was terrifying, and yet not one could turn away. The bombardment soon subsided and Dog Company took positions behind a small embankment, a readymade trench, and aimed their guns down at the road about 50 yards ahead of them which led into a long-abandoned village. Soon they heard the stomping of feet and saw a long line of Red Shirts coming out from the village and heading out to where they thought the enemy would be.

"Commies in the open! Take 'em out!" Dominic ordered. The whole company responded with a continuous fire on the Red Shirts, stopping them dead in their tracks. The firing continued and soon enough the Red Shirts were pinned down, trying to fight back. Casualties were taken on both sides, but Dominic had the upper hand; He had more men and more firepower than they, and his men were gaining ground, inch by inch. One by one, they were shot dead with a red flash wherever they were hit, and soon enough the firing stopped, and the rat-tat-tat of submachine gun fire had quieted down.

They cautiously approached the village and took cover behind the walls and a wagon loaded with straw. All was quiet. Dominic and Anemone turned to each other, and communicated to each other through their faces. Both were worn and tired. Both were being pushed to their limits. But there was one thing that made it all worthwhile: they were winning, and another little push might win the battle. The two smiled and gave each other a kiss to buck the other up, and give the other enough incentive to continue. Dominic turned to one of his men, a young bright-eyed support gunner named David Miller, armed with a BAR.

"Miller, you cover for us. We're going in!"

"Yessir!" Miller cautiously moved forward and aimed his BAR into the village. There wasn't a soul to be found. Nothing but the occasional spatter of submachine gun fire. Not one person in the streets. Then the firing grew louder and Miller gave the okay sign to Dominic.

"Go! Go! Go!" Dog Company ran into the town under the arch and scattered, firing at the Red Shirts hiding in the houses. The machine gunner for the company, A man named Thomas Jones, ran to a broken wall and poured a living sheet of fire into a squad of Red Shirts standing in the open less than 15 yards away from the broken wall.

The covering fire of the Browning machine gun let the men clear out the position house by house. Seizo took a squad of men and broke down a door, firing his Thompson into three Red Shirts in the room, killing them all and taking them through the house out the other side.

"This house is clear! Let's go!"

They came out the other side and immediately the man next to him was hit through the neck and fell dead instantly, thanks to the fire of a Red Shirt peeking round the corner. Seizo soon killed him and his whole platoon ran through the earthen street and fired at the Red Shirts on the other side, who were forming around a house. Soon the other men of the company began to gather around the house. Then they heard their lieutenant yell out,

"USE YOUR GRENADES!"

Walcott took three men and tried to take the house, killing a Red Shirt submachine gunner on the bottom floor. They fanned out and cleared out the house, but there was one more Red Shirt alive in the house. Walcott himself pulled the pin off of a grenade and threw it. The grenade detonated and a great cloud of dust rose from the old house. The Red Shirt, badly wounded from the grenade, limped out onto the street, wandering aimlessly only to be shot through the neck by Dominic.

The company had cleared half of the village and was moving in when they came under heavy machine gun fire. One Red Shirt perched high in a two-story house manned the deadly machine gun. A few brave men ran out into the open to try and take the house only to have their bodies riddled with a dozen bullets, and a few foolish others ran in their stead, only to meet the same fate. The platoon leaders knew charging the MG would be suicide and told the men to keep down and not go out. The field grew quiet as each man in the company waited and wondered about what should be done…

In a small corner of the village, unnoticed by the machine gunner, stood Dominic next to his wife Anemone, looking off at the house. Anemone had the gunner in her sniper scope and was in an excellent position to pick him off. She couldn't. The tears in her eyes blotted out her vision. She never thought once that she would have to commit the same sin as her husband had in Normandy. She would be carrying the blood of others on her hands. How could she live with herself like that? She would never live it down. She lowered the sniper rifle, her hands trembling, shiny tears of forgiveness and want for redemption rolling down her face. She turned to her husband, sobbing softly, looking through those stern grey eyes with her soft strange lavender.

"I'm sorry, Dominic. I can't. I just…I just can't." Dominic stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, whispering softly in her ear sweet comfort.

"I'm sorry too, Anemone. We have to. Please, Anemone…don't make this any harder for me than it already is. I wish it could be different, but things just are the way they are." He lowered his hands over hers and helped her raise the rifle, bringing it to her shoulder. "Anemone…if it makes any difference, I'm not too proud of what I have to do either, and neither is Renton. I've had to carry this sin for a long time, so I know it's hard. Please Anemone…" Anemone broke down crying and sobbed into her husband's sternum. She couldn't bear it. She thought she could stand something like this when she decided to tag along on the mission…but she overestimated her own capability. She felt like running away, far away, leaving this place and going back to the apartment, shut herself off and never have to deal with anyone. But things aren't as simple as that.

"Sweetheart," Dominic whispered compassionately, "I'll forgive you, just as you forgave me all those months ago. Remember what I used to tell you when the last war started? Stay the course. Don't turn and run from your duties, not when God needs us most. I'll roll up my sleeves and we'll tackle this together, Anemone."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise, on my oath both as an officer…and as your husband." He kissed her, reminding her of that great life lesson that should never be forgotten. No matter what happens, one can never run away from your duties. The only thing one could do was bear it as best one could. She raised the rifle, wiping away her tears and looked through her scope carefully.

Oh, God, forgive me. Forgive Dominic. Forgive us all for what we must do to keep ourselves safe.

BANG!

The gunner fell, and the company ran through the village and out the other arch into a courtyard. The machine gunner Jones ran up a building and fired on a squad of retreating Red Shirts, killing all except three who were picked off by Dominic. Five Red Shirts stood behind a stone wall, firing their PPSh-41 submachine guns into the faces of Dog Company. Seizo pulled his platoon around to the right and flanked them, killing all of them. Dominic whistled and called out to the company.

"Move out to the coastal road! Get that roadblock set up!"

All jumped the stone walls and headed for an asphalt road, piled with debris, crates and tank traps. They were now in a position to set up a blocking position. Dominic turned to his wife and smiled compassionately, and she returned it. She was stronger now, and knew now that one could not choose duties and obligations.

"Anemone…we're going after the mortars." Anemone smiled and followed Dominic down a dirt path to look for the mortars. They didn't take long in finding them.

In an open field, behind piles of sandbags, there stood the six long-range mortars that were to be knocked out. Abandoned. No crew. But…why? Dominic and Anemone looked to each other in confusion.

"What on earth…?" Anemone asked bewildered.

"Yeah. You said it. They would never leave their mortars behind. It makes no sense."

"Unless they were already starting to pull out of the island." Dominic shook his head.

"Uh-uh. They need that radio station and OP. They wouldn't give it up without a fight. But in any case…we must destroy them." Anemone nodded as Dominic pulled out multiple wired satchel charges from his knapsack. He moved from mortar to mortar putting the satchel charges in their proper places as Anemone stood guard and watched in awe as her husband went so diligently to his work.

He really is a great commander. So understanding. So brave. So strict and yet so fair. I could fall in love with him all over again.

The charges were set and Dominic ran back to Anemone's side carrying a plunger that would set of the satchel charges. They hid behind the wall when they heard voices approaching.

"Wait, comrades! We forgot the mortars! Let's get them out of here while we still can!"

They saw a group of Red Shirts coming on to the field and heading toward the mortars. Dominic and Anemone looked to each other and cracked a mischievous smile. They had no idea, they thought. Dominic pushed down on the plunger and, one after the other, the mortars exploded, leaving a giant hole in their sides and rendering them unusable. The Red shirts looked to each other, scratching their heads in shock and confusion.

"Now how do you suppose that happened, comrades?"

Dominic turned to Anemone and smiled wider, waggling his eyebrows and showing her the plunger.

"I'll never tell," he said snickering, and Anemone laughed with him, joining in on the soldier's joke.

»»»»»

**10:00 am, November 10****th****, 1945**

**Devil's Island, California**

An hour and a half had passed since the roadblock was set up. The Red Shirts were on the run and taking a tremendous pounding, and casualties for Dominic's company weren't as bad as he had expected: 45 killed and wounded, bringing his company down to 105 men. Casualties were appalling for the Red Shirts: out of the 200 men in eight platoons they had at the start of the battle, the remaining forces stood at only 50 in two platoons.

Dog Company was now closing in on the radio station and the observation post. Rather than committing his whole force to one of the structures, Dominic decided to split up his force and let Seizo lead the attack on the OP with first, second and third platoons while Dominic himself would lead the rest of the force in an assault on the radio station. They had the advantage of cover, since they would emerge and attack from a concealed wood.

Dominic advanced slowly with Anemone at his side and his radioman Carl Ford right behind him. They stopped and Carl handed him the telephone on the radio.

"All leaders report in," Dominic ordered. All the platoon leaders called out their numerical designation one after the other.

"Dog Six standing by."

"Dog Five standing by."

"Dog Four standing by."

"Dog Three standing by."

"Dog Two standing by."

"Dog One standing by."

"Dog wife standing by," Anemone added to the laughter of all.

"Seizo," Dominic spoke into the phone, "you know what to do, right?"

"Yes Lieutenant. Just give us the word."

"When I go, you go. Okay?"

"Copy that. Standing by." Dominic looked to his front and saw the radio station.

It was a one-floor building with what looked to be the skeleton of a tall skyscraper reaching out into the foggy sky, topped with an antenna. Around the station were small entrenchments and two Red Shirts guarding the door with a large red hammer and sickle on the front. In the entrenchments there was only one platoon of Red Shirts. There were no other reinforcements. Dominic smiled. This would be easy. He outnumbered them now three to one. All he had to do was destroy the garrison and capture the radio station intact. He looked at his watch. 10 minutes after 10 in the morning. He wanted to get this over with fast. The sooner the better. He whispered into the phone.

"Fix bayonets." The click of bayonets against the muzzles of rifles filled his ears. He knew it was now or never. It would not do to wait another second. "Go!"

The three platoons rose up and ran toward the trench, bayonets fixed and glinting in the late morning sun. There were shouts of orders in Russian on the other side and the sound of a DP machine gun filled the air. Five men were shot down, but they did not return fire; they kept moving, just as Dominic had trained them to. Soon Dominic and the others were right on top of them and firing into the trench, killing a whole squad of Red Shirts. They jumped in and hand-to-hand fighting ensued, chaos and death everywhere one turned. Staff Sergeant Susan bashed a Red Shirt's face in the with the butt of his Garand rifle without ever using his bayonet, as Hancock one after another clubbed a Red shirt over the head with his digging spade. Dominic shot a Red Shirt in the stomach at point blank range, blowing a hole in the Red Shirt's stomach big enough for his arm. There was no choice, as they knew. Either they die or we die. The choice was simple and easy to make. The Red Shirts, reduced to just five men, climbed out of the trench and headed for the door to join the guards, but Dominic's men, being the excellent marksmen he taught them to be, knocked them all down along with the guards. Dominic pulled out another satchel charge and stuck it to the door, running the wire back to the trench and pushed on the plunger, blowing the door wide open. Dominic, Anemone and the platoon leaders all rushed into the station to find the clear out all the rooms. They first went into a decoding room and found seven Red Shirts manning decoding machines. One Red Shirt, a red-haired sergeant stood up and yelled at them to leave in Russian. All the Red Shirts began to rise and pull out the pistols strapped at their sides, when Dominic, Anemone and the platoon leaders all fired their submachine guns and pistols into the Red Shirts, killing the whole lot of them.

"I'm sorry," Dominic said after the shootout was over. "What did you say? I don't speak Russian!" All the others laughed as they reloaded and moved down to the next room, and the next room and the next room…

They soon came down to the central broadcasting room, where three Red Shirts, second lieutenants, sat speaking in Russian into microphones. Dominic cocked his Colt 45 pistol and the three lieutenants turned around and found themselves staring down the barrel of a pistol.

"No one can hear you, you know," Dominic said matter-of-factly. "The electricity has already been cut off." The lieutenants stood up, looking bewildered. "In the name of the Constitution of the Republic of the United States of America, you are all under arrest." The lieutenants slowly raised their hands in surrender as Dominic turned to his wife, slightly shocked. "I didn't think they would surrender _that_ quickly." All laughed as the platoon commanders escorted the three lieutenants out of the building and as Carl Ford came in with his radio.

"Sir, First Sergeant Seizo wishes to communicate with you." Dominic took the phone and put it to his ears.

"Dog Leader, this Dog One," Seizo said through the crackle and static of the radio.

"I copy, Seizo. What's your status?"

"Observation post secured and all remaining resistance captured or KIA, Lieutenant," Seizo said triumphantly. "Mission accomplished."

"Excellent work, First Sergeant. Send out the success code signal to GekkoState headquarters. Keep sending until acknowledged."

"Yes, sir. Over and out." Dominic turned to his platoon leaders and his wife, smiling broadly.

"We did it, boys! Excellent work on a job well done!" All took their helmets off and cheered as Carl Ford tried to get on the frequency of GekkoState headquarters, sending out the success code signal.

"The bird has reached the nest. Repeat: the bird has reached the nest."

Soon enough, there came the familiar voice of the old commander.

"Dog Company. This is Gekko Leader. We read you loud and clear and are awaiting your situation report. Confirm." Dominic took the phone and spoke.

"Gekko Leader, this is Dog Leader. Renton, old buddy, do you read me?"

"Yes, Dominic. Go ahead." Dominic smiled broadly to the others

"Radio station and OP captured intact. All enemy combatants out of action. Island secure. To sum it up in a phrase…Mission Accomplished, Commander."

"Excellent. Good work, Dominic! Well done."

"Oh, and sir? When are those army reinforcements coming in?"

"We've just contacted the Presidio and they're sending the reinforcements now. They should be arriving within the hour. When they arrive at your position, you will be relieved."

"Yes, sir."

"Good job, Dom!"

"Thanks, chief. Those Reds won't be coming back to Devil's Island anytime soon."

* * *

A/N: Wow. Gunfire, explosions, fighting…yeah, it's intense. That took me till 12:45 in the morning, but it was worth it. This is just the first in what will hopefully be a long string of victories for our heroes. Here's a preview of the next chap. 

_The Resistance has won its first real victory against the beast, and proceeds to march northward through the towns and the countryside amidst the great praise of the people and amidst the laughter of many a bystander. But the beast's elite force strikes another target, and the boy is stricken with the greatest fear and uncertainty._

**Next time: Cruel Fate**


	12. Chapter 12: Cruel Fate

**Chapter 12: Cruel Fate**

**November 11****th****, 1945**

**Somewhere on the road between Belleforest and Controrado**

It seemed almost fitting that the GekkoState Army move out and march northwards on Veterans Day. The force stood at 3,000 men, and was a sight to behold for any casual observer on the streets through which they marched. They marched through the streets in perfect step, banners flying, men chanting, cheering their commanders.

Holland's militia made up one third of the force, standing strong at 1,250 men, the equal strength of an infantry brigade. Five officers commanded five regiments of 250 men each: Lieutenant Colonels Dmitri Volkiev, Fyodor Rostovsky and Piotr Alekseev, and Colonels Boris Tretskoy and Gregor Andreisky. Talho was the militia's chief quartermaster had the place of chief drill instructor of the whole force, and she was known to be strict, strict enough to physically bash anyone who talked behind her back. Sascha was made the standard bearer, carrying the flag of the old Russian Empire in the days of Czar Nicholas II, the doomed czar whose family suffered at the hands of the Bolsheviks while a fifteen-year-old red-haired freckled boy named Alexei carried the Stars and Stripes. Holland of course stood commanding the whole force and was through no choice of his own given the title of Brigadier General by his men. He tacitly accepted it, and always responded with a quiet chuckle whenever he was addressed by that title.

3 companies of Army regulars were placed under GekkoState jurisdiction, comprised of 150 men each. There was of course Dominic's Dog Company, which was now given the place of the main covert operations force in the GekkoState Army. There was also Easy Company under Captain Raymond Hawkins, a stern and commanding blonde-haired man and Fox Company under Lieutenant Ronald Fredericks, a man who seemed better placed in a college somewhere out east rather than in a company of soldiers.

The rest of the force was made up of militias of the surrounding areas. One militia, 650 men, came from, Anateksia, a town of recently naturalized Polish immigrants, commanded by a brown-haired goateed man in his mid-twenties named Aleksy Stabowski, recently escaped from Soviet-occupied Poland. He knew the importance of fighting the Soviet Union and was proud to call himself an American, fighting to defend his freedom against the Soviet hordes. The other militia came from a town dominated by German immigrants, commanded by a bright-eyed 23 year old named Karl Spangenberg, an escapee from Soviet controlled Berlin, ready to fight whenever and wherever. He knew what the Soviets' real intention was: to dominate the earth.

They marched through a farmers' town, looking on at their commander-in-chief and his wife: Renton Thurston and Eureka Thurston. Renton limped on his cane wearing his usual brown flat cap, grey trench coat, white button down shirt, grey knickerbockers, black socks and matching Oxford shoes. Next to him his wife held his hand tightly, helping him along in walking, wearing a long blue and white dress a gold hairclip in her long flowing dark hair. All the men idolized him, eager for a word of praise, a pat on the shoulder, or a calm reassuring smile of recognition. In the ranks of Holland's militia (known now as the "Russian Brigade"), dressed in their White Army uniforms, all the men conversed on the rumors that were being spread about Renton's adventures in Normandy, along with grumbling out their grievances.

"They say Renton nearly lost his eye on Hill 112 in Caen!" said a clean-shaven 19-year-old.

"Sure thing," said a bearded brown-haired man skeptically. "Lost an eye!"

"No pal," said another man behind him. "He can see better'n you do. He checks everything himself: food, boots, puttees, ammunition…"

Another soldier, a recently naturalized 20 year old from Siberia held his hand to his empty stomach, gurgling.

"I wish General Novakov let us rest 'fore marching another five miles without having anything to eat…"

"In Controrado you'll have enough food fit for a king!" joked a seventeen year old next to him. Behind them a group of men were complaining about the lack of transport trucks.

"The Army provided us the transport trucks, and we aren't even allowed to use them!" A 22 year old mustachioed man complained in Russian. "The army rides the trucks like they were big shots!"

Another man, 23, was contemplating the ethnic mix of the whole GekkoState in general, quietly talking out his thoughts to no one in particular.

"Ukrainians, they also are part of the Soviet Empire. Now there are just Poles and Russians and Jews and Germans and…"

The conversation was broken off by General Holland Novakov's call to the singers of the militia, yelling at them in Russian to come up to the front of the column.

"Byertinitit, peroyyt!"

Fillipov, recently made the dancer of the militia, and a bunch of other young Russians moved up the front of the column and Fillipov led them in a Russian song as one would an orchestra of voices.

(A/N: this is the English translation. My translation is a little different. You can see it and hear the song on youtube: search War and Peace Andrei Bolkonsky 7 of 15. The song is from 2:01 to 2:55. It's from the movie War and Peace, based on my favorite book ever: War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. I do not own War and Peace or this song and it makes no profit whatsoever.)

_Hey you senny, my own senny,_

_New-made entrance to my home,_

_Brand new senny made of maple and of lattice handiwork!_

_Through this new-made senny, through the senny I will pass,_

_Arm-in-arm, arm-in-arm with my dear sweet lass._

_Here comes a lovely fair maid outside the new-made gate,_

_Brand new gate all of oak and of lattice handiwork!_

Fillipov, dancing in the streets to the delight and laughter of many a spectator, came next to Holland and Talho, marching at the head of the column and greeted with a wide smile. Holland returned the smile and patted him on the back as the hose of manly Slavic voices continued singing the marching song that caught with many a soldier:

_She would let a falcon out,_

_Of her right sleeve he'll flutter out._

_Fly on, falcon, high and far,_

_High and far, high and far._

_Go on flying high and far,_

_High and far, high and far,_

_Very high and very far to my dear hometown,_

_To my dear hometown!_

Holland soon joined in, singing in a low baritone to the laughter of Talho as they looked up into the foggy sky, knowing that somewhere behind those clouds, far above them, God was watching over them, watching over Liberty's warriors. A Russian forager walked to the farm of a German immigrant bidding him a pleasant morning.

"Good morning, sir! Good morning!" The old German farmer returned the greeting in his native tongue praising the soldiers passing through the town.

"Guten Morgen! Schein guten morgen! Hoch Russland! Hoch Amerika! Hoch GekkoState!" The bright-eyed Russian smiled and returned the praise in his native tongue.

"Ura dlya Russkya! Ura dlya Amerikantsov! Ura dlya GekkoState!" The farmer took off his straw and waved it in the air praising the whole world.

"Und die ganze welt!"

"Ura dlya vsego mira!" He tossed his cap in the air as the Russian soldiers marched through the streets continuing the singing that one would want to go on forever.

Behind the long column of Russian immigrants that made up Holland's militia, Dominic Sorel followed with Dog Company. They all considered themselves part of GekkoState, and so they were allowed to march with them while the regular Army forces rode ahead by truck. Their mood was less than joyous; amidst the column, there were complaints about Talho's self-appointment to drill instructor, a job that used to be handled by Dominic. Ever since Talho took her position, she had been treating the recruits rather harshly. The men of first platoon under First Sergeant Seizo did not take kindly to her.

"You guys," Seizo complained, "this is all Talho's fault!"

"Quiet in the ranks!" Dominic ordered, irritated; he was not in the mood for dealing with complaints. Anemone laughed quietly.

"Talho's the one that volunteered to be drill instructor, and all because she's big mean stupid bi—"

"Don't you say it, First Sergeant!" Anemone snickered and Seizo smiled.

"Weeeelllll..." Seizo started to say in a singsong way.

"Don't do it, Seizo!" Seizo smiled wider.

"Weeeeelllll…."

"I'M WARNING YOU, SEIZO!"

"Okay, okay," Seizo said, pretending to give up. Dominic sighed exasperatedly and turned to Anemone who was close to cracking up.

"I'm getting pretty sick and tired of him calling everybody a bi—" Seizo then struck up a tune. ( A/N: I do not own South Park or Kyle's mom is a bitch. This makes no profit whatsoever.

_Well, __Talho's a bitch, she is a mean, mean bitch,  
she the biggest bitch in the whole wide world.  
She's a stupid bitch, if there ever was a bitch.  
She's a bitch to all the boys and girls._

Dominic grew red in the face and yelled, his eyes twitching with annoyance, "I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, SEIZO!" Anemone lost it and burst out laughing in spite of herself. "Don't encourage him, Anemone!" Seizo was undaunted and continued singing to the rhythmic clapping of his platoon.

On Monday, she's a bitch, on Tuesdays, she's a bitch  
and Wednesday to Saturday, she's a bitch.  
Then on Sunday, just to be different,  
she's a super King-Kong mega-mega BI-ATCH! 

He turned to his platoon and called out, "C'mon, First Platoon! You all know the words!" They broke ranks and danced on the sidewalk in front of a crowd of observers, laughing and clapping in rhythm with their singing as Dominic furiously tried to control them.

"GET BACK IN THE RANKS!"

_Have you ever met my friend __Talho?  
She's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world.  
She's a mean old bitch and has stupid hair.  
She's a bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch._

_Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch she's a stupid bitch.  
(Woo!) __Talho's a bitch and she's such a dirty bitch! (BITCH!)_

Seizo then turned to the teenagers on the streets, most of whom were immigrants from some faraway country and said, "Talk to kids around the world and it might go a little bit something like this!" They turned to the different youths on the street, letting them sing along in their native tongue. Chinese, Dutch, French, Russian, any and all were allowed to join. As all this was happening, Talho had overheard and stomped over to where all the hubbub was happening, enraged and ready to let out her blind fury. She thought Dominic responsible and hit him on the head with a wooden board she picked up off the ground, while Anemone fell down on the street laughing her head off. Dominic turned and scowled at Talho.

"Hey, don't hit me! Hit him!" He pointed to the dancing First Platoon and Talho cracked a smirk, walking up behind Seizo as he continued singing.

_Have you ever met my friend __Talho?  
She's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world.  
She's a mean old bitch and has stupid hair.  
She's a bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch._

The men of first platoon turned around and saw Talho staring down at them, ready to inflict merciless pain on the rabble-rousers, the back talkers. Their eyes widened and, fearing the worst, headed back for the ranks of Dog Company and left their leader Seizo to her.

_Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch she's a stupid bitch.  
(__Uh, Sergeant…) Talho's a bitch and she's such a dirty bitch!_

"Oh, Sergeant…" Dominic called out smiling, knowing he was going to get it. Seizo ignored him and then proceeded with his jazzy finish.

_I really mean it...  
Talho…__She's a big mean fucking bitch.  
Big old mean fucking bitch Talho…Yeah!  
chaaaah!_

Seizo looked to see that all the people and saw them wide-eyed and shaking in fear. He stood up and scratched his head.

"What?"

They pointed behind him, their hands trembling. He turned around and saw Talho, staring down at him with brown eyes filled with rage, bearing her teeth, holding a wooden board in her hand, some inner bloodlust creeping out of the skin.

"Oh…shit."

Talho smacked him across the head with her board, sending him running back to the ranks, fearing her wrath, Dominic and Anemone laughing themselves silly.

"Are you finished, First Sergeant?" Dominic said.

"Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah! L-l-l-l-let's k-k-k-keep going!" Dominic smiled and faced the front.

"FORWARD…MARCH!" The company resumed its march through the town and Talho got back to her place. Seizo waited until she was out of hearing range and whispered to himself, disapprovingly,

"Bitch."

»»»»»

**Ciudades Del Cielo, California**

Ciudades del Cielo was a small town of 600 mostly made up of citizens of Spanish or mestizo descent, hence the Spanish sounding name. The militia, under the young and flamboyant Commander Raul Sanchez, stood tall at 350 men, and had the support of a resistance movement forming, sponsored by GekkoState. They might prove invaluable in any attack.

The attack began at 10 o'clock that morning. It was now close to 12 noon. The Red Shirt artillery had already bombarded the town and reduced it to rubble for all intents and purposes, and the militia was already on the run. The SOF was advancing on all fronts, drawing closer to the city center, where the remainder of the militia was dug in deep. If all fighting was to cease, they had to capture the city center.

The Special Operations Force or SOF, led by the flamboyant Captain Boris Debretskoy, marched down the street in an attack column formation, against a group of protesters standing before holding banners and American flags. The front rank of the protesters held a white banner with a sentence imprinted large black letters:

**NO GULAGS! NO BOLSHEVIKS! NO COMMUNIST USA!**

"Battalion, stoy!" Debretskoy ordered. The men halted and were ordered into a two-rank line, standing as men once did in days of old. Debretskoy stepped to the flank of the line and looked to his men, staring down the protesters. Their orders were to eliminate any and all resistance by any means necessary. Those were orders. Orders were meant to be followed.

"Gotovo!" The first two ranks of men brought their Mosin-Nagant rifles to the ready position, their bayonets glinting, the sharp tips pointed straight at the protesters holding their banner.

"Tsel'!" They leveled their rifles and aimed at the protesters, who wore stern and unbending faces, refusing to yield to the Red Shirts.

"OGON!" Their rifles flamed as they fired a volley into the crowd, little puffs of smoke coming from the muzzles. The front line of protesters fell in the engulfing blast. SOF men from the rear ranks threw grenades at the protesters and quickly detonated, killing all in their path. The SOF resumed its march and as they marched, they stepped on the American flag of many a dead protester, in utter hate and contempt for the hated nation. They moved forward over the dead bodies, some men spitting on the corpses in loathing of the people they had sworn to destroy.

One squad advanced down a narrow street coming to an intersection. At the intersection stood a band of militia, one holding a plunger. The squad stopped at the intersection and the chief militiaman pushed down on the plunger, causing satchel charges to explode around the squad, killing five Red Shirts. The remaining Red Shirts took their PPSh-41 submachine guns off their backs and fired into the militia, killing all of them. They advanced and spat on the corpses as they left. One Red Shirt, an earth-haired woman, came to a blanket on a sidewalk and pulled it off, revealing three little children blood running in little streams down their faces, eyes wide, shaking their heads as if saying, "please don't shoot us." The Red Shirt narrowed her eyes and leveled her PPSh-41, aiming it at the little children. Without an ounce of feeling in her eyes, she fired, killing the children, spattering blood on her uniform before she moved on to join the advancing squad. She had no fear, no compassion, no remorse. Only that deadly glare one has of a brainwashed mind, a small cog in a larger wheel, a pawn in a larger diabolical scheme.

They approached the town center, which was heavily guarded with MG nests and rifle pits. There was only one company of militia left; the stronghold had taken an enormous pounding under the artillery fire. The Red Shirts hugged the ground, waiting further orders. Debretskoy spoke through the radios to all company commanders.

"Fix bayonets. Prepare to charge on my mark."

The soldiers fixed the old socket bayonets to their Mosin-Nagant rifles. They lay low waiting for the order to advance. They didn't have to wait long.

"Charge!" The whole force rose and sprinted toward the enemy, red flags flying, shouting battle cries, MGs firing on them, rifles flaming. They charged headlong against the machine guns toward the town center, shouting in Russian the old cheer.

"URRRRAAAAAAA!!!!!"

One squad never fired a shot as they ran to an MG, killing the gunners with their bayonets and firing behind the sandbags at the soldiers in the distance who were to support the gunners. They killed all of them without losing a man and ran toward the rifle pits, mercilessly stabbing and killing any and all they came across, militiamen or not.

Debretskoy threw a grenade and knocked out an MG nest, facing the machine gun down the line of militiamen behind sandbags as two platoons of SOF soldiers came running ahead. The militia had all their attention and fire focused on the enemy in front of them, firing their Thompson submachine guns and Springfield rifles; they failed to see Debretskoy turn the gun around and fire down the length of the line, killing all the militiamen as his soldiers came up. They continued their charge, headlong into the last line of militiamen, guarding the town center.

Inside the town center, a commander faced the difficult choice of leaving his men to inform GekkoState, or standing by them to share the fate that awaited all of them.

"Por favor, mi commandante," Lieutenant Gregorio Ruiz pleaded to his commander, "you must leave. You must tell them what has happened. We cannot afford to go unnoticed!"

"I will not leave you and the others here, Lieutenant," Commander Sanchez replied sternly. "I will share the fate of my men."

"Please! Be sensible! The Red Shirts are already closing in and we cannot afford to lose you. You are the best chance we have of letting everyone know!"

"Lieutenant…how can I live thinking I deserted my men?"

"You are not deserting them sir. We will keep up the struggle here even if we are defeated. I'll…I'll get in contact with the resistance movement here. I'll tell them to tie up the Red Shirts while we wait for you."

"Are you sure you can handle this Lieutenant?"

"I will, if no one else chooses to. Now go, mi commandante, before the Red Shirts come." Sanchez sighed. Lieutenant Ruiz was right; he was the only one to inform GekkoState. He had to leave. If his men were annihilated, their sacrifices will be justified when this city is recaptured. He saluted Lieutenant Ruiz who returned it, and exited out the back way, to make contact with GekkoState, down south in Controrado, just as the Red Shirts entered the town center and came into contact with Lieutenant Ruiz.

"Where is the commander?" Debretskoy demanded, pointing his TT pistol at Ruiz. Ruiz stood tall and stared down Debretskoy.

"Yo soy."

»»»»»

**Controrado, California**

GekkoState forces had begun to arrive in Controrado, and the Russian Brigade was singing that old tune again. One could hear it for miles around.

In a room on the second floor of a farmhouse, Renton Thurston had made his headquarters and was awaiting word from Commander Sanchez. Eureka, his wife and personal adviser, had just exited from a room and walked over to a desk where Dominic sat looking over papers.

"Well, what is it, Eureka?" Dominic asked in bewilderment.

"We got orders from the Presidio to write a report explaining why we're not advancing." Dominic raised an eyebrow.

"Why aren't we? Has there been no news from Sanchez?"

"Nyet," she muttered in Russian. Dominic looked over a paper and spoke as calmly as he could.

"If Sanchez has been defeated and the militia there destroyed, we would have received word about it. We would have known!"

"Perhaps." She turned to walk down the stairs to talk with Jane and Hilda Rostonova when a figure came up the stairs. He was a tall man with a black bandana around his head wearing a black cape a grey uniform and tall black boots.

"I wish to speak with Commander-in-Chief Thurston," he said tiredly. Dominic stood up and walked over to the man.

"The Commander is in a meeting," he said plainly. "Whom shall I announce?" The man took a step backward, slightly taken aback. This lieutenant would surely know who he is! "I'm sorry sir, but Commander Thurston is busy." The man sighed tiredly and produced a note from his grey coat pocket. He held it out for the young black-haired Lieutenant to take. Dominic gladly took it and walked through the door into the room where Renton was. The man calmly sat down in a chair, groaning and exhausted. He rested his head and stared at the ceiling as Eureka calmly watched him, wondering who this man was. Could it be possible that this man was…was…?

The man turned and smiled at the Russian girl. He had an old face, dirty with grit and grime. He looked he had just come from a great battle, where the outcome had not been what one hoped for. He sat up straight in the chair and murmured something that Eureka did not catch. She just stood there, wondering who this man was. The door opened and out came Renton in his trench coat, staring at the man with his piercing eyes that seemed to see through all. The man rose and tiredly walked to Renton.

"You see before you the unfortunate Commander Sanchez," the man said, downhearted.

All eyes widened. This man was the commander! This man…this tired old soul who seemed to be on the ends of his rope! And form the sound of it, his forces had been defeated. Defeated! Destroyed! 350 men killed! The militia wiped out! It was impossible, improbable and yet so true. Renton looked down at his dirty Oxford shoes as he heard the Russian troops singing that old tune:

_Go on flying high and far,_

_High and far, high and far,_

_Very high and very far to my dear hometown,_

_To my dear hometown!_

Renton sighed at hearing the Russian troops so happy. The fools, he thought. They had no idea, no possible comprehension of the bad news that had just come. He stepped to one side and showed the defeated militia commander in. Before he closed the door he turned to his wife, with a look of utmost shock and utter disbelief in his eyes. Those eyes. They seemed to convey the greatest of fears and uncertainties. He sighed, thinking about what terrible things the Red Shirts must have done, and closed the door behind him.

Eureka turned to the stairs, walking down the steps, her heart heavy with what news had just transpired. Downstairs she heard the laughter of Jane and Hilda Rostonova. The unknowing fools, she thought. She reached the bottom and Hilda, a girl with short dark hair who always seemed to be happy even in the toughest of times walked over and looked over Eureka.

"Why so glum?" she asked in her thick Slavic accent.

"There's nothing to rejoice about." Jane looked down the hall and saw two soldiers in grey uniforms approaching. She went down and escorted them into the expansive bottom floor.

"Step back," she said with a smile. "Make way." The two officers came into the room and looked over the three girls. Jane stood at pretended to stand at attention in jest.

"My congratulations!" she greeted them, smiling. "Commander Sanchez has arrived." She moved closer to one and spoke again. "He is in good shape, but is a bit knocked down up there." She pointed to the back of her head, referencing the bandana that he wore on his head when he came in. She stepped aside and let the soldiers pass into an empty room.

"God protect you," the soldiers said as they passed through the door. Hilda closed the door and she and Jane burst out laughing. Eureka scowled and stepped in-between them, staring down at Jane with those magnetic grey eyes of hers.

"Jane if you wish to be a clown," she spoke severely, "I cannot stop you. But I am warning you that if you dare clown in my presence again, I'll have to teach you some manners." Jane stepped back.

"I only congratulated," she explained, smiling. Eureka's brow furrowed further.

"I'm not joking!" she snapped. Jane stepped back wide eyed and stood in the hallway as Eureka pulled Hilda aside.

"C'mon, Eureka, what's the matter?" Hilda asked, concerned.

"Don't you understand?! We're either officials serving our Republic and our homeland celebrating our common success or mourning our common failure, or we're lackeys who don't give a damn about the state of the nation and the world. 350 men have died, the militia in Ciudades del Cielo has been destroyed, and you are able to joke about it!" She turned to Jane and gave her a scowl, with fire in those grey eyes staring into those foolish blue. "Only silly immature children can amuse themselves in this manner!" Jane, absolutely stunned by this flare-up, this release of pent up emotions, this breaking of bad news, turned around and ran out the door to inform the leaders of what had just happened as Eureka looked out the misted window, staring at the Russian soldiers of her brother Holland's force marching into town, singing that old happy tune. She sighed and shook her head.

The fools.

_Hey you senny, my own senny,_

_New-made entrance to my home,_

_Brand new senny made of maple and of lattice handiwork!_

* * *

A/N: Wow. Ciudades del Cielo has fallen (reference to anime Episode Nine here.) Did you guys laugh your heads off when Talho unloaded on Seizo? Soooo South Park-esque, yet so funny! Here's a preview of the next chap. 

_In the shadow of the collapse of the massacred city, the boy and the Resistance plan their next move. The children of the Resistance are sent on an errand by the boy, and they come back with a result surprising to all._

**Next time: To Catch a Red Shirt**


	13. Chapter 13: To Catch a Red Shirt

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**Chapter Thirteen: To Catch a Red Shirt**

**November 17th, 1945**

**GekkoState Headquarters, Controrado, California**

Eureka had been feeling very strange in the mornings lately, something strange happening in the very pit of her stomach. This troubled her some, but not enough to feel the need to tell Renton. She didn't want to worry him about something as trivial as light sickness, especially now when things looked grave…

Ciudades Del Cielo had fallen. Another victory for evil had been scored. Now the lines were drawn, and each waited for the next move of the other. There was much fear and uncertainty in the ranks of the GekkoState Army and even in its own leader, Commander Renton Thurston. There was no agreement over what it was that should be done in response to Del Cielo's collapse, but one thing was clear: this injustice could not be allowed to pass.

In the living area of the farmhouse that was now official GekkoState headquarters, Commander Renton Thurston stood over a circular table covered with maps. Next to him stood his chiefs-of-staff: Holland Novakov, his stern but caring friend from Russia and brother-in-law; Talho Yukieva, the strict drill instructor and the army's chief quartermaster; Dominic Sorel, the highly trained and quick-thinking lieutenant and leader of the main covert ops force in the army; Jane Hart, the assistant chief of intelligence and head of the spy network, beautiful and cunning, never afraid to speak her mind; the two army company commanders Captain Raymond Hawkins and Lieutenant Ronald Fredericks; and the two militia commanders, Colonels Karl Spangenberg and Aleksy Stabowski. There was a lack of consensus over what should be done in response to the Red Shirt attack on Ciudades del Cielo…

"I say go straight after them," Dominic proposed, always one to have his dander up. "We should at least send a detachment down to tie up the Red Shirts already there…"

"That would mean facing the UBF head-on," Holland reminded, "and don't forget: most of our army is made up of militia…unreliable at best." Renton nodded sagely.

"We need time to train the militia and the new recruits coming in," he concurred. "but in any case…we have to do something eventually." All mumbled in agreement. He pointed to the mountain pass on the map. The pass where the supply dump was stored. Sutter Pass.

"Our next priority is to take control of Sutter Pass," Renton stated, pointing at the map. "We should divide our forces and send one section to capture the supply dump at Sutter Pass while the rest of the force marches northwards to Bothaburg, here." He pointed to the little dot on the map about five miles away from the pass. "Once the supply dump is captured we will reunite our forces and—"

At that moment, Timmy Garnett, Maurice, Maeter and Linck burst through the door, all chasing each other. The meeting was now unofficially broken as Timmy and the others swarmed toward the commander, happy looks on their faces, all calling out his name.

"PAPA RENTON!"

The children all rushed into Renton's arms, laughing.

"Turning the whole place upside down again, are you?" Renton said joyously. They all nodded laughing. "Well, what's the joke?" The children looked at each other snickering as the commanders all gathered around the man that would make a great father if, no, _when_ the day comes. "Well, c'mon, what's the joke?" Timmy then stepped forward and tried to explain.

"Well, Mr. Thurston, we were walking on the street 'cause we didn't have anything to do, so we started to play tag. I was 'it', and—"

"No, _I_ was 'it'!" Maurice protested.

"No, _I_ was!" Maeter joined in.

"_I_ was!" Linck gurgled. They all started arguing over who was it when Renton held up his hands in a sagely way.

"Calm down! Calm down, kids! Let's just say _someone_ was it. Now go on…" Timmy cleared his throat and continued.

"Well, anyway, we were all chasing each other and we went into this house, and that was it." Renton crossed his arms and smiled.

"You kids sure know how to keep yourselves occupied!" The children beamed as Renton knelt down to their level. "Kids, I want you all to know something. You all know that we're fighting a war now, right?"

"Right," they said in unison.

"All the decisions I and the others make are vital in ending the war a lot sooner. So in order to make the right decisions, it's important that we are not disturbed. You understand what I'm saying?" They nodded and Timmy looked up at his hero, smiling hopefully.

"You aren't mad at us, are you, Mr. Thurston?" Renton laughed and patted him on the cheek.

"No, I'm not mad. I just want you all to know that for the future. Okay?" They all nodded, beaming with the same hopeful idealistic smile all pure innocent children have.

"Okay, Papa Renton," they all said. Renton smiled and they all started to go when Timmy stopped them.

"Wait a minute. We won't have anything to do!" He turned to his idol and smiled. "Is there anything we can do to help you Mr. Thurston?" Renton smiled and put his hand to his chin, thinking of a way to keep them occupied. He then had one of his "bright ideas" form in his head and looked to Dominic, smiling knowingly.

"Say, Lieutenant, didn't your scouts report…_Red Shirt_ activity near here?" Dominic smiled and knew what he was getting at.

"Oh, yeah, yeah…my scouts said that they thought they saw some Red Shirts in the woods near here." Dominic winked at Renton as everyone looked about each other, confused. Red Shirts? What Red Shirts?

"You wanna help us, kids?" Renton asked the children.

"Yes! Yes!" They all returned, jumping up and down.

"I'm sending you out on patrol into the woods near here. Go and try to see if you can't spot any Red Shirt activity, and when you do, report back to me. Understand?" The children all stood at attention and chanted as one,

"Yes sir, sir!" Renton smiled and mussed their hair lightly.

"All right, then. Timmy, you be the leader." Timmy smiled and saluted his hero.

"I'll try to be worthy of my post, Mr. Thurston!" Timmy then turned to the others. "Right…face!" The kids turned toward the door. "Forward…march!" They all filed out the door, marching in step out the door as all the commanders went back to the meeting. Jane turned to Renton looking at him with her deep blue eyes, smiling enticingly.

"Renton…there aren't any Red Shirts near here, are there?" Dominic laughed.

"The nearest Red Shirt forces are 15 miles away!"

"But _they_ don't know that," Renton said smiling wryly. "Good way to keep 'em occupied while we figure out a plan." Jane smiled as the others laughed and looked over a map.

So funny. So caring. So commanding. I could fall in love with him all over again.

»»»»»

**In the forest northeast of Controrado, California**

Timmy Garnett, now a medium-sized 13 year old, led Maurice Maeter and Linck through the woods searching for any Red Shirt patrol they could find. They were set in completing their mission, each one alert, tense, ready for action, determined to have results for the man they called "Papa Renton". Timmy was at the head of the little party carrying a pair of high-power binoculars around his neck, dressed in a "Renton costume," trench coat and all. Behind him, the children were all panting.

"How long have we been walking, Timmy?" Maurice asked, short of breath. Timmy checked his watch.

"About…one and a half hours since we left." Maeter and Linck plopped down to the ground.

"I gotta stop! My legs hurt!" They complained in unison. Timmy turned to them and tried to rally them to keep going.

"C'mon, guys! We can't let Mr. Thurston down! Let's keep going!"

"I say we stop and rest a little bit," Maurice suggested, sitting down next to his sister and next-door neighbor. "We need to rest." Timmy sighed and crossed his arms.

"Okay," he relented. "But just for a little while. There could be a Red patrol around here."

How right he was.

The spy network and scouts had not been into the woods at all. Not more than 10 miles away, a small Red Shirt patrol was wandering through the woods, trying to find a path to Controrado. At the head of this patrol was none other than Lieutenant Ilya Chertov, the chief quartermaster of the UBF and Captain Pavel Dolgorukhov's second-in-command. He had been given the task to scout out the area around Controrado and report on the rebel activity there. They had no idea that just a few miles away, a little blond-haired boy was spying them through his binoculars.

"Guys! Get down!" he called. Maurice and the others got down on the ground, crawling over to Timmy.

"What is it? What do you see?" they all said with concern. Timmy closed his binoculars and put them in their case.

"Red Shirts," he whispered. "Not 10 miles from here. They were heading this way." All the others gasped.

"What're we gonna do?" Linck said, trembling. Timmy smiled at them, having a great idea.

"We're gonna trap them!" They looked to each other, confused on what he meant.

"Trap?"

"Yep. Remember those pranks you used to pull on Mr. Thurston?" They nodded, wishing to forget all the things they did to him. "Well…why not do it to them?" They all beamed, knowing in an instant what he was getting at. "Those Reds won't know what hit 'em!" They all nodded and quickly ran to gather anything they could to trap them. They will never see it coming.

Maurice, Maeter and Linck went to the nearest general store and got whatever they could use to trap them. They found some thin fishing wire that would trip them up when they walked, some shovels to dig pits, and even a fishing net to hoist them into the air. They had to pay a lot of money for it, but it would be worth it. It'll be worth it to see the Reds trip up.

They soon came back and started digging the pits while Timmy kept an eye on the Red Shirts. They were still far away so they had time. Timmy estimated that they would not be here for another few hours or so, so it was important not to waste any time.

All pits were to be strategically placed along the road through the woods and were made to be 10 feet deep. Of course it takes a long time to dig a hole that deep, so Timmy lent a hand in the digging. They dug four holes which they thought would be enough, and it only took them four hours. Maeter and Linck went to work on the wires, wrapping them around tree stumps to trip up any Red Shirts that pass while Maurice and Timmy started work on the fishing net, which would lift the Reds into the air once they stepped into it.

The traps were set and ran for nearly a quarter of a mile. They were sure to take care of any Red Shirt force that had the misfortune of running into them.

»»»»»

The Red Shirts were advancing fast and rapidly approaching their positions. If they found any hostiles, their orders were to shoot first and ask questions later. Chertov turned to the men.

"Steady, comrades," he said quietly. "We're in enemy territory now. Keep your guard up."

"Da, Comrade Lieutenant," they all returned. The children hid in a ditch on the side of the road, next to the fishing net as they watched the Reds slowly approach.

Chertov and a blonde named Mikhail tripped over a wire and landed face first in the dirt. The other Red Shirts couldn't help but laugh at the childish trick. Chertov turned on them, his face red as his uniform, fury and rage in his eyes. They quickly shut up and stepped over the wire to continue marching.

"Keep together comrades," Chertov whispered. "There might be more traps along the way…"

He spoke too soon.

A red shirt, a dark-haired man with large sideburns named Andrei, fell into one of the holes, which he had not seen since it was covered with sticks and leaves. The Red patrol gathered around the hole.

"COMRADES!" Andrei called out.

"Andrei!" Chertov called. "Are you all right?"

"I think so. I don't think I can climb out, though."

"You think?! You are not paid to think! You better try!"

"Right away, Comrade Lieutenant."

"The rest of you, follow me. We have to keep moving."

"Da, Comrade Lieutenant," the men chanted back. They kept moving, making sure to watch where they stepped, but they could not escape the holes, for the holes were well camouflaged. One after another, a Red Shirt fell into a hole or tripped over a wire or tripped and fell head first into a hole. All the while the children were trying to stifle their snickering.

"When I find the dirty rebels who laid these traps," Chertov said angrily, "I'll skin them alive!" The children laughed quietly again, thinking about how his face would look when he finds out that children planted these traps!

There were only five men left (most of the others were trapped in the holes), and they were now approaching the fishing net. Timmy and the children all stayed down until they stepped into the fishing net.

Snap!

The trap was sprung and the Red Shirts were hoisted into the air, dangling from a tall branch. The children cheered and looked up at the Red Shirts who were now seething with anger.

"WHAT!?" Chertov screeched. "I cannot believe that this was all set up by little children!" Timmy and the others bent over laughing seeing the hilarious predicament the Reds were now in. "You little brats! Cut us down at once!" Timmy stepped forward and spoke to the dangling Red Shirts, laughing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Red Shirt, but I'm afraid I can't do that. You see…" he bore his right arm, showing the seal of the United States on it, the unofficial symbol of GekkoState. "…I'm a member of GekkoState!" Chertov laughed pompously.

"Ha! You, a little kid? One of those rebels?! Don't make me laugh!"

"We'll see who laughs last when Mr. Thurston sees you!" Chertov's eyes widened. He remembered him, from the days when Renton first came to Russia. They were the bitterest of enemies, second only Dewey himself and Chertov always vowed revenge against Renton in the war-games. Impossible! This little boy couldn't know him!

"You?! You know Renton?! Renton!?!? That little upstart!? I don't believe you!" Timmy smiled and turned to Maurice, Maeter and Linck.

"Guys, keep an eye on these Reds while I get Mr. Thurston. Make sure they don't try anything funny." They all smiled and saluted Timmy.

"Right!" they said in unison. With that, Timmy ran down the road to find Renton or anyone, to show him their prized catch.

»»»»»

Timmy reached the headquarters and hurriedly knocked on the door. He was very jittery, eager to tell his hero about their catch. The door opened to show Renton's wife Eureka, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, a golden hairclip reflecting the light of the autumn sun, that innocent smile looking down at the closest thing she had to son, for the time being at least.

"Hello, Timmy," she said kindly.

"Hello, Mrs. Thurston. Could I speak with Mr. Thurston for a moment? I found something that's really, really important." She smiled and called down the hallway.

"Renton!"

"Yes?" Renton's voice answered.

"Timmy is here, and he says he has something really important he found."

"I'll be right there." Renton soon came to the door and knelt down to Timmy's eye-level. "Timmy, do you remember what I said earlier about not interrupting meetings?"

"I know, Mr. Thurston, but we found something important: we caught a Red patrol." Renton's eyes widened. This kid couldn't be serious!

"Timmy…are you sure?"

"Yes, I am, Mr. Thurston. We all spotted a patrol down the road and we caught them! C'mon and I'll show you."

"All right. Hang on." Renton stood up and called down the hallway to his subordinates. "Gentlemen, get down here! I think Timmy's got something important for us!" He then turned back to Timmy. "You sure they were a patrol?"

"Yessir, Mr. Thurston, sir! Absolutely!"

"All right then. You lead us to 'em." Timmy smiled and led the way into the forest, where Maurice, Maeter, Linck, and the patrol were waiting.

»»»»»

They were in the woods, and the commanders and chiefs-of-staff had their handguns drawn. They stopped and looked up at the funniest sight their eyes beheld: up in the air hanging from a fishing net, were five Red Shirts looking down in seething anger at the band of rebels.

"In the name of the Constitution of the Republic of the United States," Renton said reticently, his pistol drawn, "you are all under arrest."

"I don't believe it!" One Red Shirt said, stupefied. "The boy wasn't joking!" Chertov looked closely to see his old enemy, Renton, wearing his usual trench coat, knickerbockers, black socks and Oxford shoes.

"Thurston!" Chertov exclaimed. Renton looked up and found his old rival, Chertov. The same young face, the same fiery eyes, the same matted hair.

"Chertov!" Renton returned, smiling wryly. "I never once thought I would see you again. Who's caught in the net now?" Dominic's eyes widnened in shock.

"D-don't tell me you two know each other!" Holland smiled.

"Old rivals," he said chuckling. "They go far back." Chertov furrowed his brow and growled with anger.

"Cut me down at once, you little upstart! Cut me down so I can fight you man to man!" Renton raised his pistol and aimed it at Chertov.

"I'm sorry, old friend, but the American people are the only ones you're going to be fighting. They will decide your fate."  
"We ARE the people!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Not yet." Renton then turned to Timmy. "Are these the only ones you caught?"

"No, Mr. Thurston. A bunch of others fell into the holes we dug." Renton turned to Dominic.

"Lieutenant, have your men round up the rest of the Red Shirts stuck in the holes." Dominic nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir. First platoon, on me!" The men of Seizo's first platoon followed him and started to help out the Reds trapped in the holes. Their fight was over. Renton turned back to Timmy and mussed his hair in a kind fatherly way.

"You're the hero today, Timmy. Good job, son." Timmy smiled, his innocent young teenage face brightening.

"Thanks Mr. Thurston." Renton looked back up to his old enemy growling menacingly and seething with rage at having been defeated again by Thurston.

"And as for _you_, Chertov…we have some questions we'd like to ask you."

* * *

A/N: XD XD XD XD Take _that_, commies! If the Red Shirts can get trapped by little kids then this shouldn't be _too_ hard for our heroes at center stage. Or will it? Here's a preview of the next chapter: 

_In a daring move by the boy, the Resistance splits its forces and march northward. The man is sent on his own to the mountainous pass in the northwest while the boy stays with the main force, marching over old ground he once treaded as a child. Acting upon new intelligence, the beast counters the boy's moves and the two old enemies rush headlong into battle. Who will emerge the victor?_

**Next time: Battle of Thurston Farm**


	14. Chapter 14: Battle of Thurston Farm

**Chapter Fourteen: Battle of Thurston Farm**

**November 22nd, 1945**

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest, California**

"Our insider intelligence has reported that the GekkoState Army has divided its forces," Ageha A spoke firmly, shifting through files. "About 1,400 men have been sent northwest to Sutter Pass while 1,600 men are now marching up the road to Bothaburg and Cashville. It seems they are trying to capture the supply station in Sutter Pass."

Dewey nodded as he continued walking through the forest outside the base with the Ageha sisters, Sergey Pavlenko and Alexander Vervanev. Dewey first turned to Pavlenko, the youngest captain in the UBF, commander of the regular infantry battalion.

"Comrade Captain Pavlenko, you are to take your forces west to reinforce the garrison at Sutter Pass, and you are to bypass all the villages in-between here and there.; do not waste any time. The enemy approaching must not be allowed to take control of the supply station, under any circumstances. You are to fight to the last." Pavlenko nodded firmly, sending his dark brown hair swaying in the autumn wind.

"It will be done, Commissar."

"If I may say so, Comrade Commissar," Vervanev spoke up, "this is a very risky move for Thurston. His forces are dangerously divided. He will try to take Cashville and Bothaburg in order to get between us and Sutter Pass."

"Da…da," Dewey replied knowingly, thinking carefully over all this. "Time is not on our side, comrades. We must strike fast and hard if we are to secure our position here in the north." He turned to Vervanev, a tall blonde 21 year old, in command of the Workers' Battalions, better known to the Red Shirts as the dreaded Joy Division. "Vervanev, you are to march south toward Controrado and attack Thurston's forces." Vervanev opened his mouth as if to say something but Dewey waved a hand, keeping him quiet. "Da, I know you will be outnumbered, but think carefully; most of the men in the GekkoState army are untrained militia, and they are supported by a small number of regular army troops." Dewey smiled and Vervanev returned it, figuring out what he meant.

"This will work to our advantage," Vervanev said optimistically. Dewey nodded and spoke at a menacing whisper.

"You may proceed, Vervanev. Wipe them out…all of them."

»»»»»

**November 23rd, 1945**

**On the road to Cashville, California**

After the capture of Chertov's patrol and the interrogation of Chertov, GekkoState made its move. Renton sent Holland and his brigade of 1,250 Russian immigrants northwest towards the Sutter Pass, with the intent of capturing the supply dump, then marching eastward to Bothaburg and join up with the militia there before finally moving to join Renton at Cashville. Dominic and Dog Company had been allowed to follow with Holland's detachment, to the reluctance of Renton. Still, being the considerate boy he was, he couldn't say no to a friend.

The militiamen had begun training since before the victory at Devil's Island, contrary to what Dewey and the others in the UBF believed. Spangenberg's militia along with Stabowski's had now three hard weeks of training on their records ever since they joined ranks with Renton and GekkoState. They also had the firm support of two infantry companies from the Presidio, 150 men each. Renton's section made up 1600 men, and all considered themselves capable of whipping any Red Shirt force that opposed them.

On a rainy day in late November, Renton and Eureka rode ahead in a car, sitting in the backseat, watching the troops and the countryside go by through the window while Captain Hawkins of Easy Company drove with Lieutenant Fredericks in the "shotgun" seat. In the back, Renton sat resting his head against the window, contemplating something which none knew. His face was sagging, almost melancholy about something. His hands were firmly placed on his cane, the top hand trembling somewhat, as if in fear of some greater threat. Eureka looked to him, seeing him staring into space, pondering over some great truth. He looked so down, so lonely, longing for something. Poor man, she thought. The stress of commander is getting to him. He needs a respite. Desperately.

Perhaps the news she had received from Doctor Sarkovsky would make him happy, she thought.

Renton's eyes widened as he saw a tall dark structure approach. Could this be? Was it really…? Is it…?

"Stop the car," he ordered reticently. Hawkins did as he was told and the car was brought to a halt. Renton looked out and got a good look of the building. Was it really what he thought it was? After all these years? Was it…?

It was.

Renton unlocked the door and stepped out of the car, approaching the buildings. They were worn and old, the wood decaying and rotting, showing signs of age. The paint that was left was a bright red with white stripes. One building was a barn with the roof caved in, holes in the roof exposing the inside of the barn. About fifteen feet away stood a run-down farmhouse, once a vibrant green by the evidence of what paint was left. Now the veranda was rickety and weak, the steps close to rotting away. Less than 10 yards away from the farmhouse facing the woods stood a chicken coop, now empty and the roof gone. Great expansive fields, once farmlands, covered the whole view in-between the buildings, showing signs of fertile soil still viable for planting. This was it. No mistake.

"What's he doing out there?" Hawkins asked impatiently. Eureka sighed resignedly. Eureka somehow knew what was going on. She knew in an instant what she was looking at.

It was his old farm.

"I can't believe that question came from someone who has heard all of the stories about him," she said with a slight air of resentment.

"What're you talking about?" Hawkins replied incredulously.

"If you've heard about Renton…you would know what _this_ is." Hawkins and Fredericks looked out. They couldn't see what it is Eureka was getting at. Eureka sighed, secretly joining her husband. "This used to be his home. He used to live on this farm." Without even saying a word, she stepped out of the car and walked over to her husband. Renton looked down at her into those simplistic innocent eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. His eyes were glistening, and he looked like he was going to cry.

"You know what this is, don't you?" Renton asked, knowing full well the answer.

"This is the farm you told me about, back in France." Renton nodded, sniffing.

"It's been so long…since I saw this place. I never thought I would see it again the day I left. I thought I would never see this place again. And now…look how much of it has changed. Take a good look, Eureka. We might never see this place again." Renton dropped to his knees, crying. He was not crying for his old home in shambles. He was not crying remembering all the good times he spent on this farm. He was crying for a weary and torn world, a world where a sight such as this might never be seen again, a world where his children and his children's children may not be so privileged or lucky enough to see Renton's old home.

A weary world. A world constantly plagued by evil. A world where there were always those that were trying to destroy his home. Why can't people just leave us alone? Why can't we just live our lives in peace? Why is it that one evil had to be replaced with another?

"Eureka…if there is any reason I fight, it's because of that." He pointed to the old farmhouse, his finger trembling. "I fight so that maybe our child and our child's child can see that." Eureka thought this would be the right moment, but he rose again and spoke.

"Eureka, I want to show you something." Renton took his wife's hand and led her to a small spot next to the farmhouse.

She found a grave, a granite headstone. On it were inscribed in large capital letters:

**NATALYA IVASTRONOVICH THURSTON**

**February 11****th****, 1881—March 9****th****, 1935.**

**A loving mother and wife**

She turned to Renton, who was now sobbing, his face in his hands.

"Renton…" He turned to her, his eyes watering, uncovering old memories and old losses. "Is this…?" Renton nodded, wiping his eyes on his trench coat sleeve.

"Mother," he whispered, the sadness overflowing. "The worst part of it is…the Thurston family ends with us." Eureka caressed his shaky hand and looked at his saddened eyes with her kind ones, seeing this as the proper moment.

"It doesn't have to end that way, Renton," she said smiling. Renton looked deep into her grey eyes with his piercing green, trying to discern what she meant.

"What do you mean by that?" Eureka drew closer to him.

"Before we left, Doctor Sarkovsky told me the most wonderful news." She smiled, preparing herself to say the words. "Renton…I'm pregnant."

Renton's eyes widened. Those words. Those words! Those little words were all he needed to hear. It turned him upside down and made him want to shout a hip-hip-huzzah to the whole world, shout to the world the great and most joyous of news: I'm going to be a father! It's almost unreal, Renton thought. Me, at 19 years old, am married and going to be a father. It's all one could want.

"That's…that's won-wonderful," he said quietly, resting his head against hers.

"Renton, what are we going to do?" Eureka said worriedly.

"We're not going to fret over anything right now," he whispered, pulling her close to him. "This is a happy moment. The best moment of my life." He pulled her into a kiss, reaffirming the vows they took more than a year ago, making it known that now they were to be mother and father in nine months' time. The kiss was slow and warm, soft, feeling nothing short of refreshing, reveling, another union for them. They could kiss all day if they had that luxury, but life isn't as simple as that.

Renton pulled away, looking into his wife's eyes. He was so tired of all this. He was tired of playing soldier, tired of being the hero, tired of fighting. He just wanted to live his life in peace.

"Eureka, this settles it. When we get to Bothaburg, I'm going to hand over command to Holland." Eureka's eyes widened in shock.

"Renton…"

"Eureka, I'm tired of doing this. I'm getting far too old for this business. I can't go around fighting every battle—"

"Renton, you must." Renton's eyes widened at Eureka's statement. Never once had she been so…commanding. So strong. So imposing. "Renton, you've become a better leader than even my brother could hope to be. You outperformed us in Normandy, you even outperformed Jacques. Renton…I want this to be over with as much as you do, and if I had the chance to run away from this I would, but…we don't have that option. Not in the world you and I live in. Renton, remember what you always told me: duty and obligation come first. Always. Please, Renton, don't leave us. Don't run from your duty. If not for anyone else, please stay for me and our child." Renton sighed and rested his head against hers. He could never say no to his wife, and she had a point after all: no matter what happens, one can never run away from duty. It was a lesson many had forgotten about.

"Eureka…my allegiance is to the Constitution…to the United States…to the Republic…and to you. I'll stay in this position…just for you _and_ for our child."

"Thank you Renton. You're doing the right thing." Renton nodded and both looked up to find Captain Hawkins holding an umbrella, staring down at them on the ground with a stern look on his face, the look that some terrible news had come up.

"Mrs. Thurston, Commander, pardon me for intruding, but we got a problem." Renton stood up.

"What's the problem?"

"We received a radio transmission from Gidget. She was tracking multiple United Bolshevik forces coming in from the north."

"Where were they headed?"

"To this position, sir." Renton adjusted his flat cap and stared at Hawkins intently while Eureka got up.

"When are they supposed to reach this position?"

"About two hours from now, sir."

"Have the men received word?"

"Yes, sir. They are here and waiting for your orders." Renton put his hand to his chin and thought out a plan. He smiled wryly having a plan.

"Order your men and Lieutenant Fredericks along with the militia to take up defensive positions in an arc covering the farm. You better start digging some foxholes. Prepare for an attack."

"Yes sir." Hawkins left to rejoin his company while Renton then turned back to Eureka, taking her in his arms, whispering in her ear.

"They won't get us. They won't get any of us. And they won't get our child. I swear upon my mother's grave."

He meant every word. They would not get anything. They would not get his country. They would not get his home. They would not get his friends. And most importantly…

They would not get her, or their child.

»»»»»

**Two Hours Later**

Renton sat perched in what used to be his room of the old farmhouse, watching, waiting, and wondering. The men had dug their foxholes and sat patiently waiting for the attack to come. The Joy Division would probably attack in two different directions: through the woods to try and outflank the line, and straight up the middle to hold them in place. Anticipating that kind of attack, Renton had ordered Hawkins and Fredericks to take up positions in the chicken coop, covering the woods. The militias under Spangenberg and Stabowski had dug in along a rise of ground in front of the barn. They had their orders: no retreat. This was the home of Renton Thurston and to be driven off Renton's old home would be shameful, and embolden the Red Shirts. But the topography of the land was on their side: the Reds would have to struggle across a canal ditch and cover 300 yards of open field before reaching the barn. There would be no cover for them.

Inside a slight swale behind the canal ditch, the men of Joy Division waited for the order to go in. Most of the men were not actually Russian; they were recruited from the local communists and Soviet sympathizers in the area, who wanted to see their nation change to the system of communism and were willing to destroy their own country to achieve that end. If they were to kill fellow Americans, then so be it. It is for the Revolution, and those who opposed them were simply traitors and deserved to die.

Vervanev had split his forces and sent a third of his force to flank the positions near the barn. He looked through his binoculars and saw the men of GekkoState dug in on a rise of ground with the barn behind them. If they were to win, they had to strike fast and hard. If they could win here at Thurston Farm, the birthplace of Renton Thurston, the birthplace of the great commander, then maybe the resistance movement would collapse. This would be the first time they went toe-to-toe with GekkoState, so this first battle might very well determine the fate of the resistance. In any case, if the enemy was there, they must be attacked. Vervanev turned to his personal radio operator and was put through to all commands.

"Fix bayonets," he whispered. Through the crackle of radio, he heard the clicking of bayonets on the muzzles of their Mosin-Nagant rifles. He looked to his front, seeing the men of the hated GekkoState. It was now or never. He gave the signal.

"All units…forward."

The banners proclaiming "Death to the Bourgeoisie" were raised and all the men ran forward, quickly crossing the canal ditch and running to the barn, not caring about being shot, not caring about dying, but only desiring victory over the rebel scum.

The militiamen in the foxholes all aimed their rifles and MGs (lent to them by the Army) at the oncoming enemy, their flags flying, their bayonets glinting in the late morning sun. There was not one steady hand as they raised their rifles to their shoulders. But all stood strong: there was no lightheartedness now and a great quiet prevailed. All eyes were to the front. This was a testing time. They all watched in awe as they saw the Red Shirts come on. There was no cheer from them, no battle cry, no call, no yell, only silence and the glint of bayonets. The Red Shirt attack line bent into the shape of a half moon with a concave toward the canal ditch, all charging and flags flying. They closed in.

350 yards.

300.

250.

They waited until they got within 200 yards of the line, then all rose to their feet and poured volley after volley into their ranks, little puffs of white smoke emerging from the muzzles of their rifles, phosphorus tracer bullets zipping through the foggy fields, each one hitting its mark, each man falling with a red flash of blood where they were hit. There was only the continuous cry for a medic, for their mother, for their God. The Reds came closer and closer, taking more casualties with each step forward. The firing was too intense for them and they stopped and hesitated, firing from below the small rise. Spangenberg's men alone all poured a tremendous fire on the Red Shirts, knocking down the whole first line in one flaming blast. The Red Shirts had a murderous fire as well, knocking down men in the foxholes on the rise, but the simple fact was: the rebels had the high ground, and they didn't. The fire from the GekkoStaters was murderous and ultimately unbearable. The Red Shirts, having taken many casualties, began to fall back to the safety of the swale behind the canal, all the while firing to cover themselves. Men were shot down by the score as the Reds withdrew, moving farther and farther away, until ultimately…

Silence.

The first assault on the barn had been repulsed in less than 15 minutes. The GekkoStaters had taken only 100 casualties while the Reds had suffered 250 casualties.

Renton had watched the whole scene through his binoculars and knew that this was only the first of what were sure to be many assaults on the barn. He switched his attention to the west and found that the Red Shirt assault on the chicken coop was not going well either…

It seemed almost unreal that a force of 500 should be stopped by less than 300 men, but then again, the Reds never thought they would be facing regular Army forces. The Army men stood strong in the chicken coop and the numerous foxholes facing the woods, all firing upon the Red Shirts emerging from their wooded shelter. The Reds had been stopped dead in their tracks, flags wigwagging, men faltering and showing signs of hesitation. They were out-experienced, outgeneraled, and outgunned. To try and attack a position covered with MGs and high-powered rifles and submachine guns with little more than old rifles dating to World War One was madness, but they had no other option. Their orders were to advance forward, and forward they must go. However the weight of sheer firepower began to tell and Red Shirt casualties mounted. After little more than five minutes the Reds were forced back into the woods and the firing gradually died down until silence reigned over the field.

The Reds had taken a tremendous pounding: 150 men killed or wounded compared to less than 50 Army personnel out of action.

Renton turned again to the barn to see that the Reds were trying it again, seeing heroism on both sides, seeing death and madness everywhere. One of Stabowski's men, a blonde-haired 16 year old, threw a grenade out into the open and cast two Reds and a standard bearer into the air, the red flag flying up into the air, being ripped apart by bullets and grenade shards. The hammer and sickle was torn off by the bullets, leaving only the red that contained the blood of dead innocent millions. The Reds had advanced closer, coming to within 50 paces of the trenches and more men began to fall on both sides. Both sides poured a murderous fire upon each other, and with each man who fell, it was the same story: a red flash of blood, a call for a medic and an escorting to the aid station. Soon, however, the number of militiamen facing them began to tell on the Reds, whole squads and platoons of men falling as if by command. The Reds wavered and fell back, their flags marking the trail of retreat over the blood strewn fields that Renton once treaded. Renton had been right. If anything was worth fighting for, it was to preserve one's home.

The battle continued for an hour and a half, with each hour that passed being the same story. Attacking and re-attacking. Attacking and re-attacking. With every step forward for the Red Shirts there were two steps back. For every step forward another dead. For every step back the Red Shirts take, another step to victory for the rebels, a fact that would be detestable. Vervanev had no choice. Either attack and keep Thurston occupied or allow him to march to Cashville and cut off the route to Sutter Pass.

Attack, counterattack, charge, retreat, regroup and charge again. The nature of fighting and the nature of war itself had become second-nature to Renton now. He had seen it up close and had been involved with it for four years. Four years of commanding men he was never ready to lead. Four years of watching his men, his family, kill and be killed. Four years wishing it would stop. It was all part of him. He had been self-taught in command and the military since he was a small boy, but he never had a full grasp of what war could do before going to Stalingrad, to Normandy. Even in the face of death, he never once took a step back, seeing what was important to do in the world always: fight for what is right and just.

By one o'clock, the Joy Division had begun to withdraw toward Cashville. Vervanev had lost half of his force, reducing his once feared Joy Division to 750 weary men. It would take time to rebuild their strength. Their attempt to defeat Renton had ended in failure, and Thurston Farm belonged to GekkoState and America. Renton had successfully defended his home with taking few casualties, less than 300 men, and had learned the wonderful news that he would be a father in nine months' time. Two more victories for him, and for his and Eureka's future life together.

He limped weakly back to the car, all men marching along the road swelling with pride, triumphant in their victory over the Soviet hordes, leaning on his cane with Eureka at his side. Captain Hawkins greeted them with a salute.

"Sir, I just got another transmission from Gidget. The enemy is in full retreat." Renton smiled tiredly.

"Well done, Captain. Let's keep moving." They entered the car and Renton and Eureka looked back at the farm as they drove away, seeing it standing tall against the mist enshrouding the field. They had won the day and preserved his old home for their child and their child's child and for future generations to come.

And that was something worth fighting for after all.

* * *

A/N: The Reds have turned tail again, and Renton now knows the truth. Congrats, Renton and Eureka! Here's a preview of the next chapter: 

_The boy marches northward in triumph, but at the mountainous pass the man, the woman the soldier and his wife are having great difficulty; it has been two days and they have not captured the pass. They must capture the supply station at all costs if they wish to see the boy again. What will the outcome be?_

**Next time: Battle of Sutter Pass**


	15. Chapter 15: Battle of Sutter Pass

**Chapter Fifteen: Battle of Sutter Pass**

**November 25th, 1945**

**Sutter Pass, California**

The black haired soldier lay back in his chair in an abandoned log cabin which made his personal quarters, recounting the parting with his old friend before the great campaign…

_Three days ago_

Dominic and Anemone walked through the streets of Controrado searching for Renton or Eureka or anyone. They didn't have to look very far.

They found him, standing beside a black car next to Captain Hawkins and Lieutenant Fredericks. He was saying his final goodbyes to Holland, standing at the back of a transport truck, dressed in his old White Army uniform and Talho next to him wearing a black ushanka on her head.

"Well," he said gravely, as if he might never see him again, "goodbye, old friend. And God protect you." Renton's forefingers touched Holland's head, heart and shoulders, blessing him. "May your great endeavor succeed. You have my prayers." Holland, in love and fear for his old friend embraced him gently, saying a final goodbye in his ear.

"Good luck to you, moj drug. You have my prayers, also." They broke apart and both placed their hats on their head. Renton then turned to Dominic and Anemone, looking at them with eyes of depression and brooding, pondering some great truth no one could begin to fathom.

"Get in with me," he said quietly. Dominic threw back his shoulders and stepped forward speaking firmly.

"Sir, permit me and my company to follow with General Novakov's detachment." Anemone and Renton looked to him surprise. They would have expected him to stay with Renton!

"Get in," Renton said again. "I also need good officers on my staff." Dominic and Anemone followed Renton and Eureka into the car as Renton rolled down the window and spoke one last time to Holland.

"I also need them."

The car slowly drove away, heading down the road north to Cashville. Renton turned to Dominic and spoke quietly, reflecting on what had to be done in the next few days. "There is still much to be done. Much to be gone through. Should just one tenth of Holland's men emerge from the Sutter Pass in the next few days…" He hunched over grasping his cane. "…I will grateful to almighty God."

"That is why I'd like to be assigned to this detachment," Dominic said quietly.

_Flashback end_

Renton consented to Dominic's wishes and let him, Anemone and Dog Company follow Holland's men on campaign in the mountains. The campaign had run into many problems since then…

The supply dump was still in the hands of the Reds, and the garrison of 125 soldiers had received reinforcements from Sergey Pavlenko's battalion of regular infantry, bringing the overall strength up to 1,125 soldiers. For three days now, the Russian Brigade and Dog Company had been trying to find a way around the defensive line with no luck. The snow-covered Marin headlands were at Pavlenko's back and the narrow pass towards Bothaburg and Cashville was blocked. Casualties had been taken on both sides. The temperature had begun to drop dramatically. Winter was closing in, they had to make a move quickly.

The door creaked open. Dominic turned to find his wife Anemone. She looked as beautiful as ever when she decided to tag along. It was a good thing that it was Thanksgiving weekend or she wouldn't have been able to come at all. She had made it a point to follow Dominic on campaign wherever he went and whenever the situation at school offered. She was dressed in a winter version of her usual orange and white dress, more heavy and furry. Dominic smiled as Anemone walked over to him.

"There's talk of an offensive," she said whispering in his ear. "All the Russians are talking about it." Dominic sighed and lowered his head.

"I'll believe it when I get confirmation. This has to be the toughest fight we've had since Hill 112."

"It can't last much longer. Holland says the Reds have taken heavy casualties. They'll have to pull out eventually."

"If they pull out they'll run into Renton when he captures Cashville. We have to keep them here and force them to surrender. It's the only way." Anemone wrapped her arms around him and smiled.

"That'll make our job much harder, won't it?"

"That's the last thing we want." Anemone turned to face Dominic and sat in his lap caressing his face.

"Whether the job is hard or not, I know we can do it. We've always come out on top, whatever challenge we've had to face. This won't be any different." Dominic slowly kissed her, knowing full well that she was right. They had been through so much together. They had defeated everything that had ever come between them, at home and abroad. This fight would be no different. Dominic and Anemone pulled apart and dragged each other up. Dominic quickly slipped on his winter uniform, put on his white gloves and secured his helmet around his head.

"You look good in that helmet," Anemone said putting her hands on his shoulders.

"It's okay…except for getting helmet hair." They laughed and headed out the door to Dominic's motorcycle, now named _TheEnd_.

It was very cold and very dark. It was three o'clock at night and there was a light snow falling, which wasn't surprising considering the high elevations where they were operating. The sky was inky black and the moon was beginning to descend over the horizon. It was a perfect setting for a dawn attack. Dominic and Anemone quickly climbed into the motorcycle and sped off toward the forward command center where Holland Talho and the other commanders were working out a plan.

It took Dominic and Anemone about 15 minutes to reach the log cabin. They quickly got out and walked in the door to find Holland and five other commanders looking over a map of the area. Holland looked up and saw Dominic walk in with his wife. The commanders all turned and saluted the young lieutenant.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Sorel," Holland said quietly, yawning.

"Good morning, General." Holland chuckled at that word. He never really liked being called General.

"Like it or not, you _know_ the title fits you," Talho said wryly. All the commanders laughed at the comment as Holland returned to the map of the Sutter Pass.

"To fill you in, Dominic," Holland spoke, "there seems to be no other way to get around the line; the mountains cover their flanks. There is only one way for us to attack, and that is in a frontal assault." Dominic nodded, seemingly knowing that a frontal attack would cost them dearly. Still, there was no other way to get around them. Such was war. "We will have to attack hard and with the utmost speed. Our men will form in assault columns and will advance at the double quick with bayonets fixed and we will not stop until we reach the first line of trenches. Clear?"

All the commanders saluted and returned, "clear." Dominic then spoke up.

"Sir, where am I in all this?"

"You'll be out in front with your company, leading the attack." Dominic's grey eyes widened. Him? His company? Leading? It was unreal. He had been given a great honor. He turned to Anemone, who only smiled at her husband. A great honor indeed. Dominic looked back to Holland, arms crossed and smiling at him. He should have the honor, Holland thought. In any case, Dominic did not want to argue with Holland. There was important things that needed to be done.

"Y-yes, sir."

»»»»»

**Five o'clock in the morning**

The regiments had gotten into their positions and had assumed their assault column formations, their flags flying, showing the colors of the Old Russian Empire in the days of Czar Nicholas II alongside the Stars and Stripes. Holland stood at the front of the brigade, sword drawn, Talho at his side wearing a grey ushanka and a violet and white winter dress. Dominic, in his winter uniform, and Anemone at his side, stood at the front of his company, bayonets fixed and ready to go. He gulped, his mouth dry and his breath coming out in short pants, emerging from his mouth in the form of vapor in the cold air. He was very nervous. Then again, anyone would be before an attack. He looked back to Holland, staring off into the heavy mist covering the field before them. The fog will make excellent cover, concealing them from the Reds' view until it was too late. Holland turned to Dominic and nodded firmly.

Dominic nodded in return and looked to the front. Now was the time.

"Dog Company…at the quick step…forward, march!"

With those words in their ears, Dog Company marched forward lightly trotting on the ground, being sure not to make a sound. This was it. It has begun. The fate of the battle rested in this attack. Holland held out his sword and the whole brigade marched forward, Holland whispering quietly to himself,

"May God be with us."

They marched briskly through the fog, which was extremely dense. On the other side of the line, the Red Shirts stayed in their foxholes, waiting for an attack to come. They were armed with the traditional weapons: PPSh-41 submachine guns, Mosin-Nagant rifles, and DP light machine guns. They all aimed their weapons into the fog. The fog was so thick one could barely see 10 paces in front of them. No one dared emerge from their foxholes and venture out into the fog, for fear of running into an enemy patrol. The field was quiet except for the howling wind and the light humming of the transport trucks further to the rear. They all stood staring off to the foggy horizon.

Then the rebels came on.

Charging at a full sprint, their flags flying and bayonets shining, the rebels advanced and attacked each foxhole, taking every position by the point of the bayonet, inflicting heavy casualties on the Reds without even losing a man. The Reds were taken completely by surprise and it wasn't long before the first line of Red Shirts was in headlong retreat towards the supply dump. The DP machine guns were refaced by the men of the Russian Brigade and they opened fire on the retreating Reds, mowing down the whole line, a reaper cutting the golden wheat with a scythe.

Dominic charged forward, his company becoming the vertex of the attack line. They took foxhole after foxhole, with relatively few casualties than expected. They were winning, inch by inch, yard by yard, and neither he nor his wife could be happier. Finally they could break through and end the siege, and see their old friends again.

Holland, with Talho at his side, walked calmly through all the noise and chatter and fire as the brigade continued to march forward, heading towards the trenches. He had promised to her a long time ago he would fight for her. Now they had to fight together. They surged ahead toward the forward trenches, not firing a shot, bayonets glinting and flags flying and shouting the old Russian cheer.

"URRRRRRAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"

The men stormed the trenches, and melee combat ensued. Dominic grabbed a Red Shirt by the collar and fired his pistol into the Red's face, killing him outright. Anemone hit one Red Shirt after another over the head with a digging spade, her face red and brow furrowed, seething with some lust to kill those who had tried to interfere with their lives. Holland slashed a Red across the abdomen with his sword while Talho covered him, firing a pistol into the heart of every Red that came near them. Alexei, the 15 year old standard bearer stabbed a Red with the pike on his flagstaff while Sascha, too weak to fight, simply waved the Russian flag around, signaling all commanders to hold their position until further orders were received.

The Reds were taking heavy casualties and were virtually trapped in the trenches. The 300 some Reds that were stationed were slaughtered in less than 15 minutes. Those who tried to escape were either shot or pulled back down by one of the GekkoStaters and shot dead. They all were about to surge up out of the trenches toward the next one when they saw a line of Reds come on. Dominic called out to his men around him.

"Red Shirts! Counterattack!"

The DP machine guns were refaced and all the men, Russian and American, fired upon the advancing Red Shirts. It was a scene reminiscent of a World War One charge, but really the Reds had no other place to go. If they were to stop the rebel advance, they would have to attack them head on. The first attack melted away, each man falling down with a scream, a flash of blood, a call for a medic, and then the death rattle. Hanging blank stares given only by the dead ran rampant among the ranks of the advancing Reds, and on the side of the GekkoStaters. But Holland and Dominic had the upper hand: they had taken them by surprise, and they had suffered relatively few casualties. As the Red Shirt line began to falter and run away, Dominic rose from the trench, BAR firmly in his hand, and ordered his men forward.

"They're falling back! CHARGE!" Dog Company followed him out of the trench and out into the open in pursuit of the retreating Reds as Holland, smiling brightly turned to his brigade.

"For old Mother Russia!" The Russians cheered and leapt out from the trenches and followed Dominic in his pursuit, the pride swelling in them, the adrenalin pumping through their veins. They ran across the misty grey snowy field. The blood turned the snow a bright red, bleeding into the ground and turning the once beautiful California plain into a killing ground. They advanced and drove the enemy 350 yards through mortar and rifle fire, until they stopped to see a Red Shirt battalion under the hated Soviet flag advancing toward them.

"Battalion, stoy!" cried a Red Shirt officer in Russian. The men paused as Holland called to the brigade.

"Hold! Get ready!" The Red Shirts raised their rifles to their shoulders under the command of an officer.

"Tsel'!" Holland, Dominic, Anemone, Talho and the others waited for what they knew would come next.

"OGON!" The Reds fired a tremendous volley upon the rebels, sending many men down with a flash of blood, turning the snow covered earth red. The Red Shirt officer drew his pistol and gave the next order. "VATAKU! SERBOYT!"

The Reds charged headlong into the rebel line, clashing and going muzzle to muzzle with the GekkoStaters. Hand to hand fighting ensued once more. There were heroes on both sides, but death and destruction everywhere. The fighting went on for less than ten minutes when Dominic heard something that shocked him.

"RETREAT! RETREAT!" He looked to his left and saw the Russian brigade fighting the Reds to a standstill and some beginning to panic and retreat. In a fight such as this, Dominic knew, retreat was always the wrong move, resulting in a killing spree for the Reds. He saw a standard bearer carrying the American flag falling back to the trenches, and he was about to run after him when he saw her running to the standard bearer. Her, of all people…

Anemone.

The bearer was shot down, but Anemone grabbed the flag and waved it. Dominic thought she would be killed in an instant.

"Anemone!" Dominic called out. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"_Somebody's_ got to turn this battle around!" She turned to the men retreating and yelled to them. "We didn't come all the way here just to turn tail and run! Now let's go!" She ran forward with the flag in her hands, the rest of the men following them in a new concerted effort to break the lines. They didn't come all this way just to turn tail again. Dominic smiled and turned to his company.

"Push forward, men!"

They didn't need to be told twice. The whole company and the Russian brigade surged ahead and broke the battalion facing them, sending them running back through the supply dump and to the headquarters where Pavlenko was holed up. Dominic followed after Anemone heading in the direction of the supply dump. One Red Shirt holding a Mosin-Nagant rifle came up and was about to stab Anemone when Dominic hit him upside the head with the butt of his BAR, knocking him out. Anemone threw him to the ground and waved the flag symbolizing all soldiers' dreams:

Triumph.

The supply dump had been captured and all the men of the Russian Brigade and Dog Company cheered full heartedly for their victory. Dominic motioned them all forward after what Red Shirts were left and all ran through the supply dump, towards the command center…

Inside the said building, Pavlenko was preparing for the worst. He had his pistol drawn at his side and was ready to die when any rebel came into the office. All over the place men were scrambling to try and hide anything, prepare for an evacuation, even though that was not the orders given to them by the Commissar. However, a radio operator soon called Pavlenko over with something important to say.

"Comrade Captain! The Commissar wants to talk to you!" Pavlenko walked over to the radio and grabbed the phone.

"Yes, Comrade Commissar?"

"Captain Pavlenko, are you still there?" The Colonel asked through the crackle of the radio.

"Yes, sir."

"Have the rebels taken the supply station?"

"Unfortunately yes, sir. I am willing to stay and fight to the last."

"There would be no point in it, Comrade Captain. Your orders are to take whatever forces you have left and retreat." Pavlenko's eyes widened in shock. Was the Commissar serious? And after telling him to defend the pass at all costs? This could not be!

"Sir, are you sure? Sutter Pass will fall if—"

"Sutter Pass is already falling as we speak, Comrade Captain. It would be a waste of manpower to continue the fight there. Your orders are to retreat and return to base. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Comrade Commissar."

"Very well then. Out." Pavlenko hung up and turned to his chief lieutenant, Igor Paitsev.

"Comrade Lieutenant, prepare your men for evacuation." Paitsev promptly saluted.

"Da, Comrade Captain." Pavlenko then turned to the other officers in the room.

"Burn everything! Don't leave one shred of reports for them and prepare to evacuate." The officers nodded and ran to the back, having the men board the transport trucks burning all dispatches and reports and intelligence. Pavlenko got on the radio and was put through to all Red Shirt commanders.

"To any and all remaining United Bolshevik forces: your orders are to retreat. Return to base and board the transport trucks immediately; prepare for evacuation."

The Reds were already on the run, and heading for the transport trucks which would take them back to base. All the while, the Russian Brigade and Dog Company were charging forward, victory in their grasp. They ran past the enemy command post and spotted the convoys leaving, one truck after another. Dominic, Anemone, Holland and Talho opened fire on the Reds trying to reach the transports and inflicted heavy casualties. However, they had arrived too late. The last of the convoys left, but Dominic quickly threw a grenade into the truck, detonating and killing all the Reds inside. Pavlenko ran through the crossfire and to his private car, a black Model A Ford. He quickly got in and turned the key, and then heard the cocking of weapons around him. He looked and found himself staring down the gun of Holland's pistol. Pavlenko cracked a crooked smile.

"You lose, General Novakov."

Pavlenko's foot hit the gas pedal and the car sped away, leaving the smell of gasoline in a long trail as Holland and Talho tried to shoot and kill him, but no luck. He was soon out of range. Holland sighed as he looked to his men, waving the Russian flag and cheering the Russian cry of victory.

"POBEDA!" Holland chuckled knowingly, seeing this not as a victory but a defeat.

"The fools," he said to Talho. Talho raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"We let Pavlenko and his forces get away. Now they are sure to rejoin Dewey." Talho threw her arms around him and whispered quietly in his ear.

"It doesn't matter. We captured the supply dump along with hundreds of Red Shirts and now we can rejoin our old friend."

"Still…"

"If he got away, what does it matter, lubov moya (A/N: Russian for "my love")? He'll get his just desserts in due time." Holland smiled and pressed her close.

"I guess you're right. In any case, whether he got away or not…this is a victory." They shared a small kiss, an agreement of that one little fact that seemed to dominate over everything. Victory.

Victory, yes. But one at a devastating cost: Holland's brigade lost 350 men out of 1,250 and Dominic's Dog company lost 75 out of 150. The Red Shirt garrison had been wiped out and Sergey Pavlenko's battalion had suffered 400 casualties, bringing down his strength to 600 men. It would take much time to regain his strength, but the rebels had new recruits coming in every day, filling in vacant spots. It was another victory for the GekkoState Alliance, but it would take time to return to their original strength.

None of it seemed to matter, though. One thing was important: they had won here, and the path to Bothaburg and Cashville was open, and they would see Renton once again.

* * *

A/N: Whew. (Wipes sweat off brow) That took me a while but it was worth it. Another victory for GekkoState! Here's the preview of the next chapter: 

_The beast is routed from the mountainous pass and the two wings of the Resistance reunite in the German town known as Bothaburg. The men of the resistance learn the wondrous news and the boy is offered a choice by the man. What path will he take?_

**Next Time: A Time for Choosing**


	16. Chapter 16: A Time for Choosing

**Chapter Sixteen: A Time for Choosing**

**November 26th, 1945**

**Bothaburg, California**

Bothaburg was a small town of about 1,100 which was miniscule compared to Belleforest but gigantic compared to the other surrounding towns. The two wings of the army were reunited and were now being reinforced by the town militia. The UBF had divided its forces again and attacked Porbayevsk and Highway Three, heading to the northern headlands. In the town square of Bothaburg, as a young German inspired other German immigrants to join the ranks and stop the Soviet hordes, the chiefs of staff pondered and planned what to do next.

"Sir," Dominic spoke up to Renton, "I guess I should let you know that the Presidio has agreed to send us additional reinforcements—"

"Good," Renton said reticently.

"And Major Jurgens will be arriving at the front in three days." Renton's eyes widened.

"He's taking over?" Dominic smiled and shook his head, sending his jet black hair into dancing with the autumn wind.

"No, chief. He'll be directing some army forces further north to contend with the threat to Highway Three. He'll be working…'in tandem' with us."

"I'll take your word for it, Lieutenant. I guess you'd like to be detached to go up Highway Three."

"Maybe…maybe not." Everyone chuckled. "I'd have to see if the dates synch up…so Anemone can come…" Another round of laughter from the chiefs of staff. "By the way, chief…I heard something, and call me out if I heard wrong…but…did I hear that you and Eureka were…" Renton knew what he was going to say, but raised an eyebrow. He was going to make him say it.

"She and I were what? What did they say about us this time?" Dominic laughed.

"Only that you and she were expecting a…baby." All eyes widened except Renton's.

"What?! How?!!?!" Holland asked, shocked. That was met by a smack across the head by Talho.

"You ought to know the answer, knucklehead!" Talho then turned back to Renton and looked at him in concern. "Are you two planning on going through with it?"

"Yes," he said authoritatively. "We've been planning to start a family for almost a year and a half now."

"If that be the case," Holland spoke, adjusting his White Army officer's cap, "then I shall take over from here." Renton then cast a piercing green eye at him, sending daggers that stabbed his very soul.

"We're staying," he said. All eyes widened.

"But Renton…my friend…"

"No excuses. We're staying."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. To protect our future family." Holland crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as everyone else smiled. Just like him to say that, he thought. So committed and faithful. Always knowing what the right thing to do is. That's what made a hero.

"We're definitely going to need more protection," Holland said finally. Renton pulled back his trench coat and showed a pistol at his right side and his old saber, given to him by Jacques, at the other. "Never mind…"

"My family is my responsibility."

"Oh no you don't!" Dominic protested. All eyes turned to him, shocked. "We're all your family as far as I'm concerned. We've been with you through everything and I mean everything. If that isn't the definition of family, then…well, goddammit I don't know what is! We're your friends, Renton, and friends don't abandon each other!" Renton crossed his arms.

"Who taught you that?"

"You did, Renton." Renton smiled. His lesson took. Never give up on a friend, family you might never have. People will always have family, but people might never have friends.

"Then I'm lucky to have such loyal friends." He put in his hand into open space. "All for one…" All the other chiefs of staff put their hands on top of his, and threw up their hands at once, smiles on their faces, shouting…

"AND ONE FOR ALL!"

A little ways from the square a pink-haired woman wearing an orange and white dress, wife of the Lieutenant, walked hand in hand with a long dark-haired girl wearing a blue and white dress, a Russian, wife of the commander. She had broken the joyous news of a new life.

"I'm so happy for you, Eureka!" Anemone said joyously jumping up and down. She had had a bit too much coffee that morning. "When did you tell him?" Eureka smiled and blushed lightly.

"On the day when the Red Shirts came and attacked his farm. When we were looking over his mother's grave." There was a slight silence. At his mother's grave, Anemone thought. The irony was astounding. As they stood on the grave of one passed on, a new life was beginning.

"How did he feel after he heard?"

"He was happy, of course. He wanted to go home when he heard though." Anemone's eyes widened.

"He wanted to jump ship?"

"Yes. I talked him out of it, though."

"What did you say?"

"We needed him…I needed him…our child needed him."

"That's always good. It's no less than the truth. We need him…more than ever."

"Too true." There was another awkward silence.

"This has to be the toughest fight we've had. Tougher than Normandy. It's going to take a long time to beat them down, and we really need your Napoleon at the helm…" Eureka blushed quietly at that. "Eureka, you're my best friend. You know that, right?" She nodded. "If…if anything should happen to either of you…I don't what I would do. Dominic wouldn't know what to do either. None of us would."

"I sometimes feel like we live in a fishbowl, the way so many people look up to us and depend on us. It's enough to just lock your door and curl yourself in more and more."

"I felt that way too. On Devil's Island." Eureka turned to her.

"You were in the battle?"

"I was with Dominic the whole time."

"What happened?"

"Well…we had captured about half of a village but we were all pinned down by this one machine gunner in the roof of a house. Someone had to pick him off; we had no choice. I had to." Eureka's eyes widened in shock and looked Anemone in the face with her grey eyes that seemed to mimic Renton's the way they seemed to see through all.

"You?" Anemone sighed. She was not proud of what she had to do.

"I picked up a sniper rifle on the beach and I had to nail the gunner. I almost couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want to carry the sin Renton does so well. I wanted to run away. Far away. I wanted to go back to the apartment and just shut myself off from everyone. From you, from Renton, from Holland, from everybody. I know it sounds heartless, but…"

"What happened?"

"Dominic taught me a life lesson. You can never turn your back on duty and obligation. Some things we do aren't really things that we can say we are proud of, but we do it because we have to, because it is our duty. It's part of the job."

"So you killed a gunner." Anemone hung her head, sniffing, and looked like she was about to cry.

"I pulled the trigger…and I shot him. Eureka I didn't do it because I had to…I did it because it was the right thing to do. If I could get my life with Dominic by taking a shot, I was willing to do it." She turned to him and put her hands on her shoulders. "Eureka…you're my best friend. Can you do something for me?"

"Just name it, Anemone."

"Don't ever give up. Not ever. Not now, when everything seems to be going to pieces. Not now. Stick to your guns and you'll get the reward at the end of the tunnel." Eureka smiled.

"You don't have to ask me, Anemone. I learned that lesson a long time ago."

"Who taught you that lesson?"

"Renton."

Anemone smiled and walked on with her friend, seeming to be free of any worry in the world. That little talk was enough. Sanctuary was always temporary. The consequences of actions shouldn't matter. What happened on the surface should not be taken to heart. What's important is to never give up in the face of a challenge. What's important is to never run away from duty. What's important is to always do the right thing, no matter what. That was what made a hero, and a good person.

A little more ways from the square, two girls sat on a bench staring over at Renton and the chiefs-of-staff. One was a tall girl, 19, with a pink ribbon in her long flowing golden blonde hair, fresh wheat ready for harvest. She wore an ocean blue skirt that matched her eyes. She wore white stockings that reached her knees held up by suspenders, covered by the long skirt and black buckle shoes. She had makeup and lipstick on, the look of enticement, of entrapping, of temptation. Next to her sat a girl with short brown hair with a long green flowery skirt, striped stockings and red buckle shoes.

"Isn't it nice to hear that Renton and Eureka are now going to have a baby?" said the dark-haired one happily.

"I suppose so," replied the blonde in a British accent, flatly.

"What's the matter, Jane?" Jane furrowed her brow at the sight of Eureka, seething with a lust to hurt her, a lust she thought she had buried but had since resurfaced.

"I hadn't been counting on this."

"What do you mean?"

"Him bringing back Eureka from Stalingrad, their getting together, their going to Normandy, their getting married, their going off on this damn crusade, their planning to have a family, everything! Everything!"

"Jane, are you ok?" asked her friend in concern.

"I'm not, Julie. Ever since I met him those four years ago…I loved him."

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on him!"

"So what if I do?!" She looked to Renton more than five blocks away, her chin in her palm. "It's a free country, isn't it? It's what this whole thing is about. Fighting for freedom, just like the last war was. Freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want and freedom from fear. And…the freedom to love."

"He's fighting for more than that, Jane. He's fighting for _her_. For their kid."

"And that's what makes it unbearable for me," she whispered.

She soon saw Renton and Eureka meet in the street and hold each other close. The hate was swelling in her now, a want to go out and hurt her, to take Renton away from Eureka, to have him be hers. She thought she had buried that old animosity since that night at the diner, but some things can't be forgotten. She could almost imagine herself there, in his arms, his farmer's hands stroking her hair, his voice whispering in her ear the words she longed to hear from him, words meant for her.

I love you.

"I'll bring him back," she said under her breath.

"What?" Julie said incredulously.

"I'll make him mine."

"Good luck," she said with a laugh. "Everyone knows how devoted the two of them are. They're virtually inseparable."

"That's why I can't stand it!"

"You best be careful, Jane. This could get you into a lot of trouble."

"I don't even care anymore. Julie, am I a bad person for saying that?"

"It's not necessarily bad to want something so badly that you're willing to do anything. It just depends on what it is you want…"

"All I want is his love."

"Jane, you best look somewhere else for that. You won't find it in him. All the love he has…he gave it to her."

"I still want it."

"We can't always get what we want, Jane. That's a fact of life you got to accept."

"We shall see about that."

»»»»»

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest**

"Sir," Ageha A said again shifting through files, "what is your plan?" The Colonel put his forefinger to his chin and thought carefully. They were in a sticky situation…

Ever since the defeats at Sutter Pass and Thurston Farm, things had not been going well for the United Bolshevik Force. They had to split up their forces once more and try to gain more ground before GekkoState took it. Chertov was gone, captured by those little brat rebel children with their childish booby traps. Vervanev had taken Porbayevsk in less than two days and Pavlenko had to be dispatched to Highway Three in the north to protect supply lines coming from Soviet sympathizers and local communists. Their lines were stretched thin, and there were reports that Renton might march east and take Cashville, cutting off their road to Belleforest. The only reserves Dewey had were Dolgorukhov, Vervanev and Debretskoy. He was quickly running out of options.

"Ageha B," Dewey said reticently, "what are the details of GekkoState's strength and supply?" The auburn haired girl with pigtails shifted through her reports again.

"They now stand at almost 4,000 men and apparently the San Francisco Military District is sending them 500 more regular army troops for support. The Garrison commander of the Presidio himself is coming to work 'in tandem' with GekkoState."

"What should we do, Comrade Commissar?" asked Ageha A, the chief sister and intelligence gatherer. "We need to move quickly." Dewey nodded.

"If we make a move, we must do so immediately. Time is not on our side. Thurston might take Cashville and cut off our route to Belleforest forever. Comrades, inform Debretskoy, Dolgorukhov and Vervanev to prepare their troops to move out towards Cashville. We must reach there before Thurston does."

"Yes sir."

"Anything else?"

"Our insider intelligence found something that might be useful," said Ageha C, the black haired girl. Dewey raised an eyebrow in interest.

"What is it?"

"There is a girl serving in GekkoState who has affections for Thurston…" Dewey muttered something softly and put his hand to his chin.

"Go on," he said, obviously intrigued.

"She might be of some use to us. We can perhaps turn him through her." Dewey cracked a crooked smile.

"Da. This will work to our advantage. Lust can be a powerful ally. If Thurston can be turned, he could be a great asset to our cause, and not to mention that GekkoState will collapse." The Ageha sisters smiled hopefully.

"Do we have your permission to proceed then, Commissar?"

"Send an emissary. See if she is interested. Keep regular contact, just to make sure we get through to her."

"Da, Comrade Commissar."

The meeting was adjourned, and the plan was set. It was now a race to Cashville. The Commissar was certainly right about one thing.

Lust can be a powerful ally.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. I've been feeling sick lately (food poisoning). I hope all of you had a happy thanksgiving! Anyway, I'll be updating more on weekends and fridays. Anyway...oooo…I see some rough times ahead for our heroes. This might not be so easy as once was thought. Looks like Jane might pose more of a problem than ever before. Here's a preview of our next chap: 

_After reuniting, the Resistance marches as one to Cashville to contend with the approaching forces of the beast. A battle is imminent. Meanwhile, one of the beast's agents makes contact and the foolish young blonde, though not yet taken, begins question the boy's motives…_

**Next Time: Question Authority**


	17. Chapter 17: Question Authority

**Chapter Seventeen: Question Authority**

**November 30****th****, 1945**

**Entering Cashville, California**

The young blue eyed blonde kept walking through the streets with the music of singing soldiers in her ears. She walked unsteadily, her blue skirt swaying, pink ribbon in her hair and trying to keep her eyes on the road, something that was hard to do, all the noise and music and sound of car engines running was almost too much, felt like being thrown punches from all sides with no escape. Renton was not anywhere around; he had driven ahead in a private car with _that girl_. She had chosen not to address her by name.

She turned a corner, following the transport trucks when she heard something.

"Excuse me, miss…" said a voice with a thick Slavic accent. She turned and found a boy about her age with matted earth hair and unflinching brown eyes looking intently at her. He was wearing a black flat cap a long grey overcoat and olive green trousers with red piping down the side of each leg.

"Do I know you sir?" the blonde said in her usual British accent.

"Not yet, you don't. Pyotr Bagarov is what I am called. And you are?"

"My name is—" Bagarov shushed her and looked around, seemingly afraid someone will hear them.

"Let's go somewhere…quieter." The blonde raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Fair enough…" They walked into an alleyway between two tall buildings and Bagarov turned to her once more.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"My name is Jane Hart. May I ask…who are you?"

"You know my name: Pyotr Bagarov."

"I know, but who is Pyotr Bagarov?"

"Who is merely the form and function of what, but what I am is not your concern." Jane was now more suspicious than ever.

"What do you want? Is this some attempt of robbing me? Because it's not very good." Bagarov laughed.

"I can assure you I mean you no harm. I come to you with a proposition: do you happen to know of GekkoState?"

"Everyone around here does."

"Do you work in GekkoState?"

"Who I work for is no business of yours."

"Oh, but it _is_, Miss Hart. You see, I come from a society that puts forth a different way of seeing things and a different idea of governing." Jane's brow furrowed.

"You're a Red Shirt…"

"If that is how you prefer to address me, then so be it. But listen carefully, Miss Hart. We've had some trouble lately trying to find your friends, and we come to you with a hand in friendship. All you have to do is tell us some things about your little band and their leader, and we will help you by turning the one you seek to you…" Jane's mouth parted and her eyes widened. Her? Betray GekkoState? Betray Renton? Betray perhaps her new-found country? Her, do a heinous thing?

"What did you just say?" she whispered, now wanting to strike down Bagarov. Bagarov looked at her with an eye that seemed to entice, to lure, to draw in.

"We know who you work for, and we know what's been troubling you. Ever since he came back from Stalingrad you've been searching for a life, a life of importance, greater than that of any ordinary woman here, a life…with him at your side. We have ways of turning people. You give us what we want and we'll give you what you want; that way, everyone is happy. Don't continue to be duped by Renton; we beg you. Know our side, know the side of communism, and you will have the power to turn him. All you have to do…is cooperate." Jane began to leave and was going to tell the nearest GekkoStater of what had just happened when he spoke again.

"You're going to turn me over, aren't you?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Bagarov smiled and spoke softly.

"Think over the matter as long as you need to. Know this though: just because he and others say that we are evil…doesn't make him right." She turned her back on him and left, secretly considering the matter, though normally she wouldn't. Was she prepared to do a heinous thing? To betray GekkoState and indeed her very country to turn the one she loved?

Lust can be a powerful ally…

»»»»»

**GekkoState Headquarters, Cashville California**

GekkoState had reached Cashville first and were now taking defensive positions on the eastern outskirts of town along a high rise of ground. The UBF was having trouble bringing its scattered forces together, but the scouts and spies had estimated they would be marching to Cashville in at least 24 to 48 hours. Major Jurgens would be arriving with 500 troops and (according to Dominic) medium artillery any day now. The temperature was dropping rapidly. Winter was closing in. Now the UBF had to make a move before winter set in. If they didn't, both armies would be stuck in winter quarters for three whole months, and Renton wanted to get this over with quickly…

In the large townhouse that made the new headquarters, the meeting had already concluded and the plan was set: let the Reds come at them, or they go after the Reds. At this late season of the year, and especially with the prospect of this winter being perhaps the coldest winter yet, it was not advisable to have GekkoState conducting any more operations. Cashville had already been made the winter quarters for the army; the regular United States Army was more capable of conducting operations during winter than GekkoState, still mostly comprised of militia, and, when winter did finally set in, that would be the time the began operations on Highway Three, when the Reds least expected it.

In the general living area, Renton stood facing the window looking out onto the large fields to the east, from which the Reds would attack. Jane sat on a sofa looking to Renton, secretly thinking about what Bagarov had said. Those words…

"_Just because he and others say that we are evil…doesn't make him right."_

All questions that could cost her dearly entered her mind, questions of suspicion, of doubt. Is there something he is not telling us? Is the reason he says he is here the only reason? Was the Soviet Union really the evil country he said it was? Was there something else he hoped to gain?

Are we really on the right side?

She was glad all the others were not around to hear this. She shuddered to think what they might say. She was especially glad that girl wasn't there. The last time she butted heads with her, when Jane joked and laughed whilst Ciudades del Cielo crumbled to the Reds, when that girl scolded her for "being a clown." The lust to hurt her and have her out of the picture was building up again. Some things can't be controlled. Just then Renton spoke.

"I sometimes wonder what's happening to this country," he said, not facing her. "I think this whole war is challenging the principles of our democracy. It's discouraging to see that so many people would want us dead."

"Renton…" she whispered. Renton did not turn around. He only kept looking out over across the fields that would become a battlefield. "It's so hard to tell what's right and wrong anymore."

"What do you mean?" he said, a slight tone of suspicion in his voice.

"I sometimes wonder…how the Red Shirts and we are really different. I've been thinking about it now and we are not all that different. We're similar in almost every way, including…one's want to destroy the other."

"Jane, there is a line that has to be drawn about what sets us apart from our enemy. There is one big difference: they want to destroy this country; we want to preserve it."

"Are you quite sure about that?"

"Yes. That is a definite difference between us and them." Renton turned to face her, eyeing into her very soul with those piercing green eyes, looking at her with a questioning suspicious intent. He sat on the windowsill, looking at her spread out on the sofa, blue skirt blooming around her like a picnic tablecloth. This was something new. She had never talked like this before. "Jane, don't you think we're on the right side?" Jane looked down the hall to make sure no one heard her, in order to break herself out of the trance she was in.

"I wonder…"

"Answer me," he said again, sharply.

"Renton, what is it we're fighting for?"

"I would think you know that by now. We're fighting to defend our country, to preserve our republic, to defend democracy! Surely you would know that after all the time we've spent now."

"Is that the real reason?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We're fighting for democracy, they're fighting for communism. I don't see what's so different about—"

"You have to draw a line between which cause is better and which is worse. Jane, the Bolsheviks stand against everything we don't. They stand for the supremacy of the state, for world Revolution, for a one-world communist government. They want to spread their influence so that they can achieve global domination." Jane raised her eyebrows. She was growing more skeptical.

"And we don't?"

"We stand for the supremacy of the individual, for liberty, for equality, for justice, for democracy. There's a definite difference, Jane."

"Democracy isn't the most perfect government."

"No, but it's better than communism."

"That's just your opinion." Renton frowned. This time she was stepping out of line.

"Tell that to the millions of people who are starving to death in the gulags in Siberia. Tell that to the millions enslaved in the eastern countries! Say 'democracy isn't the best form of government' and just see what kind of response you get." A slight pause. Jane's eyes widened. He had never spoken like that since the night at the diner. "Jane, there is a difference between what is good and what is bad."

"Doesn't that depend on your point of view?"

"There are certain things that are set in stone, and you're beginning to sound like a Red Shirt." Jane's mouth parted. She felt hurt.

"All I want is to understand," she said quietly.

"But you _can't_ understand unless you draw a line somewhere," he spoke harshly. Normally he wouldn't reprimand her like this, but this time she was out of line. "Are you questioning what it is we are doing?"

"I just think there is a better way to resolve all this." Renton raised an eyebrow, more on his guard. Jane leaned in, speaking in a plea to him. "Renton, you are in a higher position than anyone now. Please give an order to stop the fighting and let negotiation begin."

"Don't ask me to do that!" he scolded, pointing a finger at her. "Go to the United Nations and make a proposal where that kind of request belongs." Jane hung her head and said quietly under her breath,

"I just want it to stop."

"It's not going to stop any time soon," he said, resolved. "Not until one of us wins over the other, and I'll be damned if I let my country turn the way Russia did." He rose from the windowsill and started to go to the stairwell to the lower levels, where his quarters were.

"Where are you going?"

"I have work I need to do." He turned to her when he reached the stairs, looking at her with unflinching piercing eyes, throwing daggers that stabbed into her soul, each hitting their mark. "And I do _not_ want to have this argument again." He left and Jane was alone, staring out the window, secretly thinking about what Bagarov had said.

I wonder if what he said has truth…

Behind a hallway corner, out of view from Jane, Holland and Talho had been listening the whole time. This was deeply distressing. Jane was posing more of a problem now than ever. The two of them wondered what to do.

"This does not look good at all," said the 19 year old goateed man. "It seems she might pose more of a problem than I first thought."

"I don't trust her," the black haired 18 year old woman agreed. "I say we turn her in." Holland outstretched an arm, as if holding the young woman back.

"Hold on, Talho. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. She hasn't really done anything to threaten us. We should at least wait and see what happens. In any case, what to do with her is Renton's call…not ours."

"We should at least keep an eye on her," she said, slightly disappointed.

"Da. On that, I agree with you." Holland looked around the corner and eyed her on the sofa, staring out the window. "She certainly did sound like a Red Shirt."

"Do you think maybe she has turned?"

"She really has been questioning the whole mission from the beginning, so who is to say? But we should at least keep track of her." The two nodded in agreement and started back for their quarters, wondering. This British girl may become more of a problem than an asset.

"I don't like this. Not a bit."

"We must be very careful from now on…"

* * *

A/N: Boy oh boy, I see some very tough times ahead. Jane is starting to be more of a liability. She sounds very familiar to the way a lot of other people think around my neighborhood! Anyway…here's a preview of the next chap: 

_The agent of the beast makes contact again and the foolish young blonde begins to grow evermore suspicious of the boy. Meanwhile, the beast has assembled its forces and strikes with full might against the Resistance, with no other direction to go. With winter rapidly approaching, the beast must win or risk a long and protracted siege. Can the Resistance hold?_

**Next time: No Retreat**


	18. Chapter 18: No Retreat

**Chapter Eighteen: No Retreat**

**December 2****nd****, 1945**

**Cashville, California**

The blonde haired 19-year-old walked through the streets of Cashville, trying to pass time before the imminent Red Shirt attack. Moondoggie and Gidget had already reported multiple Red Shirt forces coming from the east. Scouts had also spotted at least six armored cars, the cars that wreaked havoc against the unarmed civilians in Tresoir. She passed by soldiers and GekkoStaters running for the forward defenses. The 500 soldiers from the United States Army were arriving on transport trucks, followed by the medium artillery pieces, towed by trucks. She turned a corner when she found a familiar figure.

Bagarov.

"So. We meet again," he said knowingly.

"They'll find you and kill you," she said unknowingly the words flowing without her thinking.

"No one even knows I am here or who I work for. Besides, I am much too valuable to be killed," he said cracking a small smile. "The Commissar himself chose me to carry out this. But now, on to business. How are you, Miss Hart?"

"I'm alright," she lied, flipping her blonde hair. She was growing ever more suspicious. She felt she was being isolated by everyone in GekkoState.

"You lie," he said, pulling her into an alleyway. "You are not sure, are you?" Jane's lips quivered a bit.

"To be honest, no. I sometimes wonder what it is Renton really wants. I feel that there is something he is not telling me."

"He doesn't trust you, Miss Hart." Jane frowned.

"He does trust me, for your information. I've been his friend now for more than four years." Bagarov stepped closer to her.

"But you want more…don't you?" Jane looked down at her muddy penny loafers, afraid to say it. "It's only natural. We all want something these days. We all love someone, and are always afraid to lose that special someone." Jane looked into his brown eyes and stepped back. "We know who it is you want. We know what is stopping you. You are afraid to lose. You are afraid that he will not accept you. You feel his mind is made up, and you know his love is for someone else." Jane panted heavily, her breath forming in small puffs of steam in the cold air.

"I hate her, Bagarov. I hate her so much." She turned away, shedding a small tear. "Bagarov, is it wrong to want to kill someone?"

"If you never bring yourself to do it, you can want whatever you please. At least…that is what I heard."

"Someone told me that we can't always have what we want."

"Who is to say that? Whoever says that is not fit to make such a presumptuous judgment. They themselves probably want something." She soon brought herself to look at him, the barrier between their faces very small. "Lust is a natural thing, Miss Hart. Whoever says one must never give in to such sinful emotions are sinners themselves. They all want something in the end."

"What do they want?"

"Power. Pure power." Bagarov pulled her out of the alleyway and the two walked down a street. "Your little band and my society are similar in almost every way including our mutual quest for greater power."

"He doesn't want that," Jane said firmly. "He wants it to be over, to live a quiet and peaceful married life." Those words were hard to force out, simply because her anger and hate for that girl were seeping out, uncontrollable.

"Who are you trying to convince, Miss Hart? Me or yourself?" Jane stopped in her tracks and considered those words. Was that what he wanted? Was it power? Was it that thing that he accused the Bolsheviks for seeking?

"I don't know."

"You don't know if what he is saying is true, do you?" Jane turned to Bagarov and looked at him intently with her deep ocean blue eyes.

"I don't. Am I on the right side?"

"That is not a question for me to answer. That is something you have to figure out for yourself." A slight pause of silence. Bagarov turned and walked away. "With that I must leave you. It is not safe for me to be out long. You will see me again soon." He left and headed for a townhouse on the western edge of town, and Jane, shaken by another meeting with Bagarov began to head back to GekkoState headquarters. Behind a street corner, a man and a woman watched her leave.

"I had a feeling," said a goateed man, 19. "Something was not right with her on the day of the first meeting."

"She doesn't believe," said a short dark-haired woman, 18. "She doesn't believe in the mission. I don't trust her."

"Neither do I, but we can't do anything now. Until we find out who that man is, we are unable to do anything. We'll need proof before taking this to Renton."

"Da, proof. I'll have Lieutenant Dominic find out everything we can. She cannot be allowed to slip past us." There soon came the distant boom of cannons and the spatter of machine gun fire coming from the east. The Reds had begun their attack.

"Let's get back to the line, Talho. The attack has begun."

"Da. Let's go back."

»»»»»

**Eastern edge of town**

GekkoState had taken positions forming a wide arc covering all entrances into the town, for which there were three. Spangenberg, reinforced by 400 men from the militia in Bothaburg, covered the northernmost road, whilst Holland defended the center, Dominic Sorel's Dog Company, Captain Hawkins and Lieutenant Fredericks covered the southernmost road, and Stabowski's Polish unit was held in reserve. Further to the rear, two batteries of 105 howitzers stood on a rise of ground which would provide suppressing fire and surely chop any Red Shirt formation down to size.

In the center, Holland and Talho looked down the road from their dugout covered with sandbags, grasping each other's hand tightly. All were silent, as they waited for the attack to come. Holland looked through his binoculars and saw a great mass of red forming in his view. He focused the binoculars to find the Reds under the hated Soviet flag forming for an attack. They were in extended line formation and began to advance, trotting lightly on the ground advancing to the defenses, the howitzers firing on them and casting holes in the line. Soon they heard the cheer of Russia.

"URRRAAAAAA!!!"

The Reds broke into a run and sprinted towards the defenses on the road. They were 300 yards away.

250.

200.

150.

At that moment, the Russian brigade released a tremendous volley and the whole first line of Reds went down in an instant, whole units falling down dead as if by command. The Reds' advance slowed but didn't stop, advancing closer to the line. They fired as they went, casualties being inflicted on both sides. The attack began to stall and only a few brave platoons of Reds charged to the lines, carrying their PPSh-41 submachine guns, charging with reckless abandon.

A few men reached the lines and tried to get some fire on the Russian Brigade, but they were dug in. One Red, an auburn-haired 17-year-old came within 15 yards of Holland and Talho only to be shot dead by Holland with his Colt 45. A whole squad of Reds was cut down by a single machine gun, loaned to the militia by the Army. The Reds were stopped dead on the road and began to fall back slowly, firing and killing as they went. The infantry were now pinned, but soon the rumbling of car engines filled the ears of the GekkoStaters. Holland looked to his front and saw two black Model A Fords, carrying Red Shirts. Three Reds fired out the window, killing foolish militiamen who stepped into the open and killed a whole machinegun squad. Holland had one chance.

He grabbed his Mosin-Nagant rifle and aimed at the driver of one of the cars. If the cars were to be stopped, the drivers had to be eliminated. He pulled the trigger and fired, hitting the driver in the neck, killing him. The car swerved out of control and hit a pile of sandbags where an empty machine gun sat, exploding in a ball of orange flames. The crew staggered out of the burning wreckage, only to be killed by Holland and the Russian Brigade. Another car driver was quickly eliminated thanks to the shooting of Talho and the car quickly lost control and hit a tree near the line. Talho eliminated the crew of the car and soon the Reds were beginning to fall back, taking heavy casualties. Soon enough the pressure was too much for them and they fell back, firing as they went until they were out of sight. The Russians cheered and waved the Old Russian flag in defiance of the Reds as Holland kissed Talho lightly, in celebration of their little victory. Holland checked his wristwatch and smiled.

"All in less than 30 minutes."

"Well, it'll only be a matter of time before they attack again."

"Right. Everyone, keep to your posts. They'll be coming back soon."

»»»»»

**On the southern end**

On the southern end of the line, Dominic and his Dog Company along with Hawkins and Fredericks desperately tried to defend themselves against the marauding SOF forces. They were coming in great strength, inflicting heavy casualties on the Army regulars. Slowly they crept closer and closer to the lines, all the while the army regulars tried to defend themselves. The SOF fired one volley after another into the line, sending one line of regulars after another down with a red flash of blood, a squirming and then a blank hanging stare. Two UBF armored cars were sent in, wreaking havoc on the line and knocking out many MG nests along the road. Dominic, of his own notion and accord, grabbed the nearest AT gun he could find which happened to be a bazooka and fired, hitting the car in the engine. The car exploded in a ball of flames and the red shirt crew ran out, their bodies on fire, only to be met by the bullets of Dog Company.

With their attention completely focused on the enemy in front of them, the Regulars failed to see two companies of SOF infantry swing around to the right of them. The two companies lay down on the ground and crept closer to the line until they were within effective range. Then the two companies stood up in line like armies in days of old. Then the officers gave the order.

"Gotovo!" The Reds brought their rifles to the ready position.

"'Tsel!" They raised the rifles to their shoulders, aiming at the unsuspecting line of regulars.

"OGON!" In one instant all rifles were discharged, puffs of white smoke emerging from the barrels of their guns, killing a whole line of regulars and outflanking them.

Dominic turned to the right and knew he had to act quickly. If the side wasn't protected, then the whole right flank would collapse and the line would cave in. He turned to any and all available soldiers and yelled to them,

"REFUSE THE FLANK AND FACE THE RIGHT! DO IT NOW!"

Three platoons of men sidestepped to the right to try and combat the threat to the right flank, but they were too few to stop two companies of Red Shirts. The line began to waver and the army regulars began to retreat towards the town. Dominic watched as his lines collapsed upon him, and knew that if something was not done soon, the battle would be lost. He turned to his radioman Carl Ford and quickly grabbed the phone and was put through to Renton.

"Gekko Leader, this is Dog Leader. Come in, over."

"I copy Dog leader," the old chief answered. "What's your status? Over."

"We're getting pounded out here, chief! Unless reinforcements are brought in, the Reds are gonna overwhelm us. Can you send support? Over."

"I'm sending Stabowski in now. He should be arriving soon. Just stay tight. Over."

"Copy that, chief. Over and out." He turned to his men running and ordered them forward. "Don't run, men! Stand strong and we can defeat them!" Seizo smiled and turned to his platoon, and ordered them forward into the gap to stop the Red tide. They ran into them, going muzzle to muzzle with the Reds and killing a good score of them. Corporal James Smith ran to a 30 caliber machine gun and quickly refaced it, mowing down a whole squad of Reds in the back, a reaper cutting the golden wheat for harvest. Dominic stayed in his dugout firing his BAR on the Reds coming all directions as he waited and waited for the Polish regiment under Stabowski to arrive.

If only Anemone were here, he thought. She would give the Reds one hell of a fight.

He looked to the rear, towards the town, and was happy to see the flag of Poland alongside the Stars and Stripes. Stabowski had begun to arrive. Dominic smiled, seeing that his defense of the road was not in vain, that help was on its way. The men looked with him to the rear and cheered to see the Polish immigrants arrive. With another yell they unleashed a tremendous volley on the Reds, now stuck in the hole they created in the line. Stabowski rushed into the breach, shouting to the men in his native tongue,

"Follow me Polish brothers! We shall make them pay for taking our country away from us!"

Another Pole, a tall dark-haired captain named Versonas Dredayn Narnevski called to the men of his company to stand and defend all that was right and just in the world.

"As the light draws further from our sight, we must strive ever harder to gain what we desire. Yet, if it is worth fighting for, we will gain it back! The Lord fights with us, our love fight with us, and all our fallen comrades fight with us in spirit! Sustain the memory, and win the war!"

Another cheer from the Polish militiamen and they charged straight into the Reds, engaging them in melee combat. One after another, men began to fall on both sides. A red bashed a Pole's head in with the butt of his rifle while another stabbed him with a bayonet on the end of his Mosin-Nagant. The flag bearer of the regiment stabbed a Red in the heart with the pike on the edge of the flagstaff. The Reds soon began to falter and fall back, but as they did, one little company of SOF infantry stood up in line and raised their guns to the ready position.

"'Tsel!" The guns were raised to their shoulders, aiming at the Polish militiamen and the Army regulars. They stood firm, waiting for what they knew would come next.

"OGON!" In one last volley, the little company killed all in the first line with few exceptions. They then reloaded their rifles and began their retreat. Another deafening cheer from the militiamen and regulars as they fired a reciprocal volley and killed another score of Reds as they fell back to their lines. Dominic, smiling broadly in the face of this triumph, yelled to the retreating Red Shirts,

"IF YOU CAN'T DO ANY BETTER THAN THAT, RED, YOU'RE GONNA LOSE!"

All the others laughed as one red fired a shot over the head of Dominic, causing him to duck. He turned to First Sergeant Seizo and said quietly,

"Maybe I overdid it."

From the top floor of the townhouse that made GekkoState headquarters, Renton watched through his binoculars as the Red Shirts began to retreat to their own lines. Jane and Eureka looked down at the little red dots streaming back to their lines. Renton smiled and laughed quietly as he handed the binoculars to his blonde-haired friend Jane.

"Congratulations, Commander," Jane said jokingly to her old friend.

"I just remembered something," Renton said, seemingly just discovered something he hadn't noticed.

"What's that?" Eureka asked with interest.

"Today's December 2nd." Eureka smiled as Jane scratched her head, the two of them in on something she wasn't.

"So?" Jane asked confusedly.

"Don't you know history?" Renton asked surprised, a large grin on his face. "The Battle of Austerlitz, Napoleon's greatest victory. December 2nd, 1805?" Jane still didn't get it as Renton and Eureka looked at each other, rolling their eyes.

"140 years ago, today!" they said together. Jane finally got it and shook her head.

"History is not my area of expertise. It's yours, Renton."

"Never hurts to know a little more," he said smiling turning back to the great scene. "If this conflict should ever be recorded in history, the Battle of Cashville will be seen as a great victory." Just then, he felt something fall on his head. He looked up, and found that the first snowflake of winter fell, followed by another, and another, and another. Soon the sky opened up and it began to snow heavily. The first snow. The time for winter quarters. Renton and Eureka and Jane went ahead inside and downstairs to their quarters while Jane looked off to the horizon, seeing the last of the Reds fall back out of sight. All the while, still wondering.

Was Bagarov right? Is Renton seeking power? Has he lied to us this whole time?

Was she on the right side?

The anger and lust to hurt Eureka seeped out slowly, filling her whole body, and the lust to have Renton, clever Renton, cautious Renton, caring Renton, bold Renton, as hers began to emerge once again. She would not let it out in that girl's presence for fear of what she would say, but when he was alone…

She didn't know anymore.

The lust mixed with suspicion, with distrust, wonder about whether his motives were really everything he said. Did he want power for himself? Was there something he wasn't telling her? Then Bagarov's voice entered her head.

"_He doesn't trust you, Miss Hart."_

"_Am I on the right side?"_

"_That is not a question for me to answer. That is something you have to figure out for yourself."_

She hardly knew anymore…

* * *

A/N: (Speaking like Yoda) Clouded this girl's future is. Much fear I sense in her. Great care Renton and GekkoState must take. (Speaking normally) Man, oh man. Jane is drifting more and more away. Who will she turn to? (Yoda (again)) Here the preview of the next chapter is: 

_The beast has failed to take the crossroads, the Resistance settles into winter quarters and both sides prepare for a long siege. The agent makes contact again, and the foolish young blonde begins to drift more and more away from the Resistance and the boy. One night, she begins to question the whole mission as the man and the woman grow evermore suspicious._

**Next time: To Challenge the Heavens **


	19. Chapter 19: To Challenge the Heavens

**Chapter Nineteen: To Challenge the Heavens**

**December 10****th****, 1945**

**Cashville, California**

The 19-year-old blonde walked to the townhouse on the western edge of town, unknowingly being followed by Dominic (armed with a camera with the flash off), Holland and Talho. They had not yet told Renton of their suspicions, for fear of what he would say to such a big accusation. They needed proof before taking this to the Commander. Already Dominic had agents working to find out who was the man Jane was seeing…

The men of GekkoState had settled into winter quarters, preparing for a cold, cold winter. There would be no more offensive operations for the time being; they would have to wait until the snow melted. Since GekkoState did not have the proper equipment to conduct winter campaigns, the regular United States Army would be the only one conducting offensive operations…however, there were rumors they would be going into winter quarters as well. The United Bolshevik Force, well-equipped though it was, was not absolved from this, possibly the coldest winter yet. In the snow the gasoline of the cars had frozen, rations low with the ports occupied by United States troops, and their forces spread across northern Marin. It would be weeks before Dewey could bring his scattered army together. He might have to quarter the army around the villages, and wait for spring. The United Bolshevik Force was finding it ever harder to score a victory against GekkoState. Their forces were dangerously divided, GekkoState now had the support of the American people, and more resistance movements were forming everywhere and coming to GekkoState's side.

The Resistance grows stronger by the day, while the beast grows weak and feeble.

Dominic, Holland and Talho hid behind a street corner, eyeing her as she approached the steps of the old townhouse. Dominic took a snapshot of her approaching the steps. The door opened and out stepped a figure with brown hair and dark brown eyes, a few inches taller than her. Dominic took another snapshot and as Jane entered the townhouse the trio trotted lightly across the street, coming closer to the townhouse and to an open window. They stared in, not saying a word, seeing the blonde they were growing more suspicious of conversing with this unknown man…

"I thought you would come," Bagarov said smiling. Jane's eyes darted down to her black winter shoes, slightly ashamed. "There is no need to feel guilty, Miss Hart. It's quite understandable to want to see the other side." Jane did not look up. She felt uneasy at seeing a Red Shirt so regularly. She never felt like a turncoat before.

"I should be back with GekkoState. I shouldn't be here."

"It seems so distressing to me that Thurston and the other have such a lack of appreciation for your knowledge and talents," Bagarov said, pretending to be concerned.

"I must say, my trust in Renton and the others has been shaken. Every day I feel I am being excluded from GekkoState. I believe there is something about this conflict they are not telling me." Bagarov raised his eyebrows and looked into Jane's ocean blue eyes with his brown, more and more drawing her in and turning her away from them.

"They don't trust you, Jane." Jane looked up, seeing in him someone trying to guide her, help her. Bagarov placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her into the living area. "They know that your knowledge and cunning and skill will be too much for them to control. You must break through the fog of lies the Americans have formed in yourself. Let me help you to know the other side. The side of communism." Jane raised her eyebrows and turned to him. How could knowledge of communism be present in one so young?

"Pardon me for asking, Bagarov, but how do you know the nature of communism?"

"My father taught me everything he knew. Every aspect, down to the finest detail: the October Revolution, Comrade Lenin, Comrade Stalin, Marx, Engels…even the plan of the American nation." Jane looked to him, eyes wide, confused and surprised.

"The plan of America?" Bagarov smiled as Dominic snapped another photo and as Holland and Talho looked to each other worriedly. This was worsening minute by minute.

"Jane," Bagarov said sagely, "in order to understand a subject, one must study all the sides and aspects. Not just the dogmatic myopic view of the Americans. If you wish to become a prudent, wise person, you must have…a broader view of the world." They walked in a circle, each staring at each other, as Holland and Talho leaned in and hearing every word. This was not looking good at all. "Be careful of the Americans you come into contact with, Jane. Only through us can you achieve what you desire. Only through communism can you achieve a power greater than anyone here. Learn the nature of communism and you will be able to turn Thurston to you."

Dominic lowered his camera as Holland and Talho stepped back, trying to take in what he just said.

"Know the side of communism, and you will have the power to turn Thurston."

The trio looked to each other wide-eyed, stunned by what this man had said. That was what she wanted? She wanted Renton? She _still_ loved him, even after all that had happened, even after Renton and Eureka being married for one and a half years? Lust _can_ be a powerful ally. The lust had reached a high point in her now, and she was willing to try anything. Holland and Talho leaned in again. They were hoping she would not turn, but they surely knew what she might say.

"Tell me more," Jane said, taking a seat in a chair. Talho covered her mouth and Dominic nearly dropped his camera. Holland growled softly, but thankfully no one heard him. She is taking the wrong path, they all thought. He's manipulating her, using her lust to turn her, to get a new member and destroy GekkoState from within. They had to stop this deceit. They had to stop this treachery before it got out of control.

But how?

As they tried to think, Bagarov sat down smiling and told her everything, all the lies he had been fed, passing them off as truth, all the myths fed to him as fact, passing them on to her. The stories of the October Revolution, the stories of the wicked capitalists, the propaganda of Soviet life compared to American life. She heard the tales of Lenin and Trotsky and Marx. She heard what they hoped to achieve. She heard that the concept of democracy was a lie fabricated by capitalists in order to control people. And most importantly, she heard what he had been taught about what America really wanted in the end: global supremacy, the thing Renton accused the Soviets of seeking.

They were lies. Lies Holland and Talho and Dominic had heard before. Lies. All lies. And she listened.

"Do you understand now?" Bagarov said after imparting everything he knew. Jane turned away. She thought about Renton, Julie, Dominic, Holland, everyone in GekkoState. Was she really prepared to betray GekkoState? Was she really ready to turn her back to get Renton to turn to her?

She still wasn't sure.

"I think so…I still don't know." Bagarov smiled the way an old friend would, but inside he was seething with anger. This girl is stubborn! What will it take for her to come to our side!? What must we do to make her understand?!

"It is understandable," Bagarov said gently. "You still have loyalties to them. As I have said before Jane, take your time. You needn't make a decision right away. Go back. Go back to GekkoState, and think." Jane rose and started to go. "You're still not sure of their intentions, are you?"

"No."

"Of course not. Renton would never do something as audacious as this. Such a bold move would surely have something behind it. Know the power of communism, Jane. Power to turn Renton."

Jane rose and walked out the door into the cold, heading back to GekkoState headquarters. Dominic, Holland and Talho, all stunned and numb from what they had witnessed followed her through the streets and back to the headquarters, all the while conversing on what should be done.

"Let's turn her in now," Talho said firmly. "It is better we do it now than when things have get out of hand."

"Renton may not believe such a large accusation," Holland said quietly. "Remember: she still hasn't done anything."

"But how long can it go on?" Dominic said in concern, tucking his camera in his knapsack. Holland stopped and turned to the both of them.

"Until she has officially turned to their side, we cannot do anything. Besides, this 'Bagarov' character could just be another far-left socialist or something. A little more knowledge about him might help us." Dominic nodded, adjusting his garrison cover.

"I'll get my spies to gather everything we can about that man."

"And Jane?" Talho asked, eyebrows raised. Holland put his hand to his chin and thought carefully. If Jane did something, it might shed a little more light on what she was actually planning. Then he remembered something: Dr. Gregory "Bear" Egan, Renton's former physician and a current political scientist, was coming over today to speak to them about the true intentions of the Soviet Union. If Jane did something at the talk, it may help them in their path to finding out what it is she's planning to do. In any case, what to do was Renton's call as the commander, not theirs.

"Look," Holland quietly, for fear Bagarov might hear them, "Dr. Bear is coming to speak to us today about the Soviet Union. If Jane says something or does something at the talk…then we will bring it to Renton's attention. Until then, we will have to wait. Besides, we are not the ones to pass judgment on what to do with Jane. That is Renton's call, not ours." All nodded and headed back to GekkoState to await what Jane would do. It wasn't the plan they wanted, but it was the only option open. This was getting worse second by second, minute by minute.

»»»»»

**Two Hours Later**

The 50-year-old heavy-set former physician had arrived and greeted his friend Renton. In the general living space, Dr. Bear sat on a sofa facing a tripod-mounted motion picture camera Moondoggie had brought with him. Moondoggie had also set up a tape recorder so that every word in the meeting can be entered into the next issue of RayOut. To that end, Hans Ziebach, the German immigrant, the chief writer of the articles, was attending with notepad and pencil in hand. Reverend Norb, the head priest of Renton's Protestant church back home, one of the first members of GekkoState, was attending to give a religious perspective on this whole issue. Everyone was asked to attend, from the militia commanders on down. Everyone had to hear this.

Renton turned to his old friend Moondoggie, whom he hadn't spoken to in a long while. Renton was glad to see not much had changed about him. He still had the tawny hair, the horn-rimmed glasses, the caring wise tone.

"Doggie, old buddy," Renton said with an elderly tone in his voice, "is the camera ready?"

"Yep," Moondoggie returned smiling, the light reflecting off his glasses. "Up an' running."

"Recorder on?"

"Yep. Everything's ready, old pal." Renton smiled and patted his old friend on the shoulder.

"Then let's start." The brown-haired 19-year-old turned to Hans Ziebach, pencil and notepad at the ready. "Mr. Ziebach, you may proceed."

"Danke, Herr Commandant," Ziebach said in his usual thick German accent. "Let's get started."

"Started with what?" Dr. Bear asked confusedly.

"I explained earlier. We want you and Reverend Norb to share your wisdom with us. First, we'll have the political side of things from you, and Reverend Norb will give the religious side. Got it?" The old bespectacled doctor sighed.

"Yes, I suppose. Perhaps I should start by confirming something I have been saying for a while now: I am convinced that the Soviet Union is on a quest for global supremacy by means of spreading world revolution and achieving control of a one-world communist state. Further, I firmly believe that the Red Army and the Red Shirts we are fighting now are the vehicles being used to spread Soviet influence through the world."

"That is just a hypothesis," Jane said skeptically. Renton cast a glaring eye at her as did everyone else. She ought to hold her tongue and let him speak.

"Jane…" Renton said harshly.

"No, I'll answer that," Dr. Bear said firmly. "How would you explain the Red Shirt movement?"

"Simply because the Soviets are saying they want revolution doesn't mean it's true," Jane said flatly. "Perhaps they see us on our own quest global supremacy and they think this is the best means to stop us."

"Wait a minute!" Stabowski, the Polish militia commander interjected. "If the Soviet Union wants control over all of Europe, then what are the free elections in the eastern countries like Poland supposed to do?" Dr. Bear turned to Stabowski with firm and unflinching eyes.

"Make the people install Soviet-backed puppet governments." Stabowski gasped and stepped back.

"Soldiers are employed by a state to protect it from external threats," Jane countered. "Doesn't that mean the armies in Eastern Europe are simply protecting the Soviet Union from external threats?"

"The principle is true in practice, but the Soviets aren't intent on staying in Eastern Europe."

"What do you mean?"

"The Soviets say that they are occupying the eastern countries to create a buffer zone between them and Germany, but what it is really is an excuse to spread their influence. To begin with the conclusion, if we let the Soviets continue their expansionist policy, the Free World will fall apart, country by country. On a side note, if the Soviets develop the technology for making a nuclear weapon, an atomic bomb, it will be easier for them to carry out the Revolution since all the non-nuclear countries will give in to their demands."

Maurice and the other children who had been asked to attend tugged at the hem of Eureka's blue and white dress.

"Mama Eureka, I don't understand what he's talking about!" complained Maeter. Eureka smiled and put her finger to her lips.

"Be quiet, Maeter. This is something very important."

"Something every one of us needs to hear," Renton added quietly.

"There is a religious twist to it as well," Norb said, speaking up for the first time. "Soviet law is based on the rule of subjugation and control. In order to maintain control, one has to take away everything that empowers the individual, or at least remove its power and still retain to add to the illusion. Things such as a free press, free elections, intellectual inquiry, artistic expression, and most importantly…religion. Karl Marx once said 'religion is the opiate of the masses.' It dulls a pain we all have about the world by giving us something to turn to when we have nothing: God."

"So you're saying that in order to maintain control, the Soviets will eliminate religion?" Jane asked, still skeptical. Holland growled softly.

"Religion and God are two separate things," Norb pointed out reticently. "They are used together but there is a difference. Religion is a term that points to a set of beliefs, whether it is about God or nature. It is the glue that holds society together. It was the belief that our rights came from God and not from government, a fact that most of the Founding Fathers believed since most were clergymen, a principle that is deeply rooted in our culture and in our society. The instant religion and faith disappear, that is when doubt sets in, and that is where freedom ends. Religion is a principle that implies the liberty to view and believe in God however one wishes. It is this principle of liberty, among others, that the resistance movements in Eastern Europe are fighting to preserve."

"I'm not sure I understand," the 50-year-old bespectacled doctor said confusedly. "According to my research the number of personnel in the resistance movements far outweighs the number of occupying Soviet troops stationed in Eastern Europe."

"That is because the beast is gnawing on its last bone." Dr. Bear smiled at the response of the 67-year-old Protestant priest.

"I knew it! My working hypothesis was correct after all! I've been saying for several months that the resistance movements in Eastern Europe are tying down the occupying Soviet troops! That's why they haven't crossed the Rhine and invaded the West yet!"

"If the beast crosses the Rubicon, the sky will tear in a hellfire."

"It is dangerous to create another hypothesis based on an old one," Jane protested again.

"Surely you must've seen it though," Dr. Bear said resonantly. "The information was all in the intelligence, and in pre-Soviet Russian history."

"What is going on Doctor?" Holland asked point-blank.

"We've been through so much already," Talho put in. "It wouldn't hurt for you to fill us in." The heavy-set bespectacled doctor stood up and spoke firmly.

"Anyone who has studied Russian history will know that it is a history marked with expansionism and imperialist wars. In the case of Czarist Russia, it was usually a fight for control of the Crimea, a partition of Poland, or the conquest of Finland. However, when Lenin took power in 1917, he and his Bolshevik party carried that same policy in mind. The goal of World Revolution was only a pretext; the real goal was power."

"Power?" Jane repeated, incredulous. Holland growled again while Renton simply glared.

"Yes. The fight for World Revolution and the quest for a one-world communist state is a means of achieving greater power. Power over mankind. The Soviets certainly have the capability to accomplish this end with its large Red Army, were it not for the resistance movements in the eastern countries. Were the Red Army to strike with full might right now…it would engulf all of Europe."

All eyes widened and everyone in the room gasped at this shocking revelation. It wasn't all hype. It was just as Renton had said. The Bolsheviks wanted power. They were willing to fight a war and occupy free countries to do it. Norb cleared his throat and spoke.

"And so we must unite with our democratic allies in an Anglo-American alliance to stand up to the godless communists. In order to protect our democracy, preserve our faith, preserve our God, preserve all the freedoms that we take for granted, and preserve our republic for future generations, we must stand up to all those who wish to destroy it. Religion and politics are two ends of the same road. It is the same with one's soul. The spiritual for the purpose, the material for the land. We are able to be free because we possess both of them, although this fact does create a bit of worry among some." Norb laughed. "As sad as it is, it is not very often that religion and politics can intertwine. Religion can tell a lot about someone, but it never fully defines who one is and what a people believe." Hans Ziebach, his notepad full of shorthand, brimming with ideas, smiled and turned to the militia commanders.

"Let's edit this interview and get it out on the press. I'm sure the American public will flip about it!" Jane stepped forward, hands at her hips, protesting now to the fullest. Renton groaned as Holland and Talho stared on in suspicion.

"Wait a minute!" Jane protested. "Do you even hear what you are saying!? You said earlier that the possession of a nuclear weapon will make the World Revolution easier and that if the Soviets invaded the west, it would end in a nuclear war! Why would the Soviet Union go through all the trouble and expense of world domination if the material world is going to end in a nuclear holocaust?!?!?!"

"The Soviet Union is planning on annihilating all democratic nations before that can happen," Dr. Bear said calmly.

"Not the Soviet Union in general," Norb corrected. "A group of men in power known as the Bolshevik Party." Holland growled at that name. The mere mention of that gang of thugs, that band of traitors led by that murderer Lenin was enough to spark anger in him. That combined with Jane once again questioning everything was enough to…to…

He only sighed. The stupid fool.

The meeting was concluded after another half hour of questioning and protests from Jane and Renton was seeing Dr. Bear off at the door.

"I guess this is goodbye," Dr. Bear said smiling.

"For now, at least. You know, Doctor, you can stay with us if you want." Dr. Bear chuckled.

"That's okay, Renton. I still got a lot of research to do. I'll get back when I can though."

"We'd be glad to hear from you again. Thank you very much for coming. We need someone who will talk sense into the naysayers."

"They will come to understand in time. No man can hide his head in the sand forever." Dr. Bear started to walk out into the cold, the sun slowly setting against the western headlands when Renton said one last send-off.

"May God be with you, Doctor."

"Goodbye, old friend, and may God be with you." Dr. Bear walked out into the night as Renton turned up the stairs and headed back to his quarters. Jane brushed past him without a word and walked out the door, the wind closing it behind her. Renton said nothing as it happened. She was young and foolish. She can't stay naïve forever. Just then he saw Dominic Holland and Talho walking down the steps and straight into Renton's path. He stopped and eyed the trio.

"And just where do you think you three are going?"

"Pardon us, chief," Dominic offered hesitantly, "but I suggested we go outside for a walk. We need the exercise." Renton stepped aside and let them pass. As they did he said,

"You're going out to spy on her, aren't you?"

All turned to Renton, leaning on the wall, dressed in his buttoned and tied trench coat, flat cap on his head, looking down at his Oxford shoes, face heavy with worry and concern.

"Renton…my friend…" Holland began to speak. Renton only raised his hand and silenced them.

"With the way she talks, I cannot say I blame the three of you. Anyone would be suspicious with someone questioning a mission all the time."

"Are you saying…?" Talho began.

"I'm not saying anything. Even _I_ can be suspicious of her sometimes. You three forget something, though: she is young and naïve, much like the rest of us were before this whole fiasco took place. If this state of mind is anything, it is temporary. She will grow out of it and come to her senses…I hope." He turned, his eyes weary and glassy, his face wrought with a concern for Jane, hoping she was not heading down a wrong path. "Go out the door and spy on her if that is what you wish. I will pray that she changes her ways before it's too late." Renton then walked up the steps to his quarters, his feet dragging behind him tiredly. All looked on to him as he went up and out of sight. Dominic scratched his head in confusion at Renton's unusual response.

"What was _that_ all about?" Holland chuckled quietly as they walked down the steps.

"If you have known him for as long as I have, my friend, you will find that he can still be idealistic. But now let us go. We are losing time." All three rushed down the stairs and followed Jane at asafe distance through the streets of Cashville to the western edge of town. They hid behind a street corner and Dominic snapped a photo of Jane approaching the steps of Bagarov's townhouse. Bagarov opened the door and looked down at her.

"I thought you might come," he said with a knowing smile.

"I don't know anymore," she said with anxiety and doubt. "Someone says one thing, then another says something else, then everyone changes back again. It's all so terrible confusing. I don't know. I don't know what I am fighting for." Bagarov smiled wider as Dominic snapped another photo of the two of them. Bagarov extended his hand and opened the door wide.

"Come in," he said with the caring tone of an old friend, "and let me help you." She walked in the door as the trio slowly advanced closer to the house, knowing this could not go well…

Lust can blind someone. Lust can confuse. One who is a naïf is susceptible to lust and lies; he can change views as fast as one can change one's mind. Dewey was right:

Lust can be a powerful ally.

* * *

A/N: Insert reference to Episode 37 here. Things do not look good for Jane. She is drifting further and further away. Will she turn? Will she betray everyone? Well…you'll just have to see for yourself. 

_Half a week has passed since the meeting with the physician and the foolish young blonde drifts further and further away. The man, the woman, and the soldier have gathered much evidence, and are ready to make the case to the boy. When the man, the woman and the soldier listen in on one more meeting between the foolish young blonde and the agent of the beast, they see her take a final devastating step into the flames. The die is cast, and lust and selflessness will clash._

**Next time: Duel of the Fates**


	20. Chapter 20: Duel of the Fates

**Chapter Twenty: Duel of the Fates**

**December 14****th****, 1945**

**GekkoState Headquarters, Cashville, California**

It had been less than a week since Dr. Bear had come over to speak before GekkoState. There was a resistance movement forming to the north. Jane was further from the light than ever. She was wondering more and more if she was on the right side, and if the cause they were fighting for was worthwhile.

Maybe the Soviets are right, she thought.

It was now almost three o'clock at night. Dominic was close to finding out who this "Bagarov" character was. While he and Anemone worked together in one of the spare rooms of the townhouse that made GekkoState headquarters, Holland and Talho sat on a worn sofa figuring out their plan.

"The moment we find out who Bagarov is, that is the moment we present the case to Renton," Talho said firmly. Holland nodded in support.

"I agree. Then he will be able to tell us what we should do."

"You're right, anyway. What to do with her is Renton's call; not ours. I'd like one condition though: we should take care of Jane while Renton takes care of the spy."

"You mean the other way around: Jane's been his friend for a number of years. If anyone can confront her, it is him. We can deal with Bagarov together, lubov."

"Very well," said Talho reluctantly. Just then, Dominic and Anemone rushed in with papers in their hands.

"Holland! Talho!" They said together. "We found something!" Holland and Talho stood up at once.

"What is it?" Holland asked firmly.

"We know who Bagarov is," Dominic said with solid resolve.

"Who is he?"

"His full name is Pyotr Alekseivich Bagarov. He is a native Russian from Stalingrad."

"A left-wing socialist?" Dominic and Anemone shook their heads in unison, their mouths with shock and horror.

"A Red Shirt." Holland and Talho's eyes widened. They might have known. Only logical. It was one of Dewey's plans to destroy GekkoState from within: turn Jane and get her to turn Renton to their side. "What should we do?"

"I suspect Jane is there now with him. Talho and I will go ourselves to see what happens. You two present the case to Renton."

"Should we tell him about Jane?"

"Nyet. If we come back without her, that will be a sign that she has turned. Only then will you present the case to Renton. Understood?"

"Yes. Good luck, you two."

"Thank you. Come, Talho. Time is not on our side." They quickly made for the door to head to Bagarov's apartment to make sure Jane would not turn. Perhaps Renton was right. Perhaps she was just naïve and could easily be turned back. They had to know. They had to see what would happen. If anything went wrong…

God help them all.

They ran through the snowy streets until they reached Bagarov's house. They saw Jane inside conversing with him and listened in closely. She was drifting closer and closer to away from the light. All that was needed was one more step to take into the flames.

"GekkoState does not trust you, Jane," Bagarov said. "They see you as an enemy. They are only keeping you because they know you are against them."

"Why would they do that?" Jane asked in bewilderment.

"If they threw you out, they would follow you home. They know you would come back to wreak havoc on them. You are much too dangerous to them, Jane."

"This is getting worse every minute," Holland confessed to Talho. "I wish I could go in right now and end all this deception."

"We can't. We cannot know anything unless she turns."

"You are right of course, lubov moya."

"Have you considered joining our side, Jane?" Bagarov asked, smiling. Jane pondered over it. Was she really willing to turn her back on her country to get Renton to come to her? Was she really willing to betray GekkoState and threaten to destroy everything, just to fulfill her own desire?

"I haven't given it much thought. It seems so…wrong."

"Right and wrong are points of view Jane, and can easily be interchanged." Just then there was a knock at the door. Holland and Talho looked around to the front and saw four GekkoStaters with sabers at their sides knocking on the door. Dammit, Holland cursed to himself. Sometimes that Renton can take action _too_ quickly.

"Who is it?" Bagarov called.

"This is Lieutenant Wilkins from GekkoState! Open up the door immediately!" Jane's eyes widened. They were caught! They found out! She would surely get expelled from GekkoState, put on trial for conspiracy and aiding the enemy, maybe face a firing squad! Suddenly the rage mixed with the lust rising inside her and turned into bloodlust. The only friend she had now was Bagarov. GekkoState betrayed her! Renton betrayed her! Everyone else betrayed her!

"What are we going to do, Bagarov?" Jane asked worriedly. Bagarov smiled and found a saber given to him by the Commissar for the mission. He carried one of his own at his side, since he had the rank of Lieutenant in the UBF.

"I'll need your help on this, Jane."

"I will do whatever you ask." Bagarov smiled. At last, he thought. At last, the mission is a success.

"Good. Grab that saber and come with me; we shall take care of them." Jane grabbed the saber and the two of them went for the door. Bagarov opened the door and smiled at the four GekkoStaters. "Good evening, gentlemen. It must be dreadfully cold outside. Why don't you come in?" The four soldiers walked in and stared at Bagarov with knowing suspicion. They knew who he was and who he worked for. All they had to do was capture him and turn him in. "To what do we owe the visit?" Wilkins, a black-haired second lieutenant, spoke.

"Pyotr Alekseivich Bagarov, you are charged with espionage against the United States and aiding and abetting enemies to overthrow the United States Government. We have multiple sources which confirm these charges. In the name of the Constitution of the republic of the United States of America..." The fours soldiers drew their sabers. "You are under arrest." Bagarov frowned.

"You cannot stop us. No one can stop us!"

"We'll see about that." Bagarov and Jane, the lust and rage blinding her, drew their sabers.

"You rebels will know the price of resistance," the two said in unison.

What happened next made Holland and Talho turn away in horror.

With one yell, Bagarov and Jane quickly lunged forward and killed two of the soldiers. Jane slashed another across the abdomen, cutting him wide open and killing him. They turned to Wilkins and fought fiercely. They were all excellent swordsmen, and each lunge and thrust was blocked and parried. They fought, circling the front room and entering the living area. All the while, Holland and Talho watched in shock and horror. Jane had turned. She had become a traitor. With the first kill, she had taken the final devastating step into the flames. Nothing could draw her back now. They circled the living area and lunged and thrusted, blocked, parried, riposted, double-riposted, only to be blocked again. At one point, their swords were locked together, crossing and coming together at a single axis. Jane turned to Bagarov and what she said confirmed the deepest and darkest of fears in Holland and Talho.

"You were right, Bagarov. Renton is taking over. He wants power."

"The oppression of communism will never come to these shores," Wilkins said firmly, his eyes not flinching. "You two have lost."

"Nyet," Bagarov muttered angrily. "Nyet! Nyet! YOU WILL DIE!" Jane brought her sword down over Wilkins' head and he blocked the blow, leaving his chest wide open to Bagarov, who thrusted his sword into Wilkins' chest. Blood covered the steel of the blade as Wilkins' eyes rolled back and he gasped. Bagarov withdrew his saber and Wilkins fell, blood seeping from his wound, groaning in pain. Jane brought her saber up and stabbed him in the heart, with a look of bloodlust and inner hatred in her ocean blue eyes.

She hated them. She hated all of them. She hated these Americans. The liars. The warmongers. The pigs.

She looked about her and saw the four dead bodies sprawled on the floor. Her eyes widened. Did she do all this? Did she really kill? Did she really draw blood for the first time? She dropped her saber and fell to the floor, hands in her face.

"What have I done? What have I done?!" Bagarov placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling.

"You're doing the right thing, Jane." Jane looked up to him, and saw not an enemy but a caring sympathetic friend. Talho turned away, unable to watch such horror. "Become one of us, Jane and learn the power of Revolution." Jane nodded slowly.

"I will…I shall do whatever you ask of me." Bagarov smiled wider.

"Excellent."

"Just help me turn Renton. I can't live without him."

"To turn a love for one into a love for another is something not many have achieved, but if we work together, we can do it." Jane turned to him and knelt, pledging herself in mind and body to a new goal: Revolution.

"I devote myself…to the success of the Revolution." Bagarov smiled ever wider, his task complete.

"Excellent. Excellent. Lust is strong in you. You will become a powerful member of the Bolshevik Party. Henceforth, you will be forever known as…Comrade Jane Hart."

"Thank you…comrade." Holland turned away, his own stomach not being able to bear anymore. All he could do, along with Talho is hear the dreadful words, the words that confirmed everything they suspected about her.

"Every member of GekkoState, including Renton Thurston, is now an enemy of the Revolution." Jane nodded. The only way Renton could turn to her was by turning to the Bolshevik side.

"I understand, Comrade Lieutenant."

"There is a resistance movement forming to the north. I want you to go to the village of Little Kiev and wipe out Commander Harrison and the other rebel leaders. Once you have done that, call me at this location." Bagarov wrote down the telephone number on a slip of paper and handed it to her.

"They will be taken care of, Comrade Lieutenant."

"Excellent. Once more, the Russians shall rule the world…and we will at last have peace."

Holland and Talho, utterly shocked and astonished, ran away from the townhouse, heading back to GekkoState headquarters to tell Renton of what had just transpired. This was not looking good at all. Jane was now an enemy. A Red Shirt.

»»»»»

**One hour later**

In the general living area, Renton spoke with Dominic and Anemone about Bagarov…

"How long has he been spying on us?" Renton asked.

"Around the time we got here, sir," Dominic replied wearily.

"We think he has made contact with one of our members," Anemone added

"Who?" At that moment, Holland and Talho rushed into the room, panting, the breaths forming in puffs of steam in the cold air.

"What's happened you two?"

"We just came from Bagarov's place," Talho explained, panting. Dominic's eyes widened.

"What happened to Wilkins?" Holland and Talho's lips trembled as they said the word,

"Dead." Dominic's jaw dropped. Impossible! Beyond all comprehension!

"What?! How!? How could Bagarov single-handedly kill four soldiers?"

"He had help."

"From who?" Renton asked. Holland looked him dead in the eyes. Now was the moment of truth.

"It was Jane." Renton's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, overcome with shock, terror and disbelief. Jane? A traitor?

"She's made regular contact with him for more than two weeks now," Dominic confirmed. "This has been going on ever since we arrived here. She was deceived by a lie, just like the rest of us were."

"But why?" He whispered to himself in disbelief.

"You," Holland said reticently. "She still loved you." Renton turned to Holland, his eyes wide as saucers, completely shocked.

"The lustful fool. She let her emotions get the better of her. We should have stopped her when we had the chance."

"We wanted to gather more evidence first, for fear of what you might say."

"Understandable, but now we've waited too long. Has she turned?"

"Yes. She's betrayed her country. She's with the enemy now." Renton's lips trembled as he fell into a chair. Jane. His good friend. His British friend. She was now an enemy of America.

"Oh, God. Oh, dear God. She's become a traitor. The poor fool! What has she done!?"

"She was young and naïve and lustful. It blinded her." Renton tried to maintain a commanding posture, which was becoming harder and harder.

"We must act quickly, or Jane will destroy everything."

"She has gone to Little Kiev up north to kill the resistance leaders there." Talho stepped forward, her eyes glinting and unflinching.

"Renton, send Holland and I to deal with her." Renton sighed and shook his head in refusal.

"In order to stop her, she must be turned back to our side. You two cannot do that. I must face her alone."

"Renton, my friend, please let us go."

"I'm the only one who can stop her. You two take care of Bagarov. Besides, this is a personal matter."

"As you wish then, Commander." Renton rose from his chair, grabbed the saber given to him by Jacques and turned to Dominic and Anemone.

"Lieutenant, have my car ready."

"Yes, sir." Renton and Holland and Talho went down the stairs while Dominic and Anemone went out the back way to have the car ready. When the trio reached the bottom of the stairs, Renton turned to them one last time.

"Goodbye my friends, and may God protect you both." Holland and Talho both gave him a Russian kiss, in love and fear for their friend.

"Good luck to you, moj drug," the two said in unison, "and may God protect you." Holland and Talho then ran down the snow-covered streets back to the townhouse of the spy, dedicated to the proposition that the deceit and trickery must stop now. Not long after they left, a black sedan pulled up to the front porch of the townhouse. Dominic had arrived with his car. Renton moved to get in when he heard footsteps behind him.

Eureka.

She ran into him and caught him in an embrace, whispering in his ear thoughts of worry and concern.

"I heard everything. It's so terrible."

"I know it is. She's heading to Little Kiev further north to try and kill the resistance leaders there."

"Renton let me come with you."

"For your own good, stay here. This is a personal matter."

"Renton, please…"

"I don't want to argue with you, Eureka. Coming along would just mean endangering yourself and I don't want that."

"We promised we would face everything together. I ask you as your wife, Renton, let me come." Renton cocked his head and adjusted his cap, whispering in Eureka a word of advice.

"My dear, I've never asked you before to obey me, but this is one time you must. I will come back; I promise you. I will not let her turn to the Bolsheviks. Just stay here and wait for me, Eureka. Please. Don't make this harder for me." Renton kissed her and headed for the car, leaving Eureka at the front door. Before he got in, Renton turned to her again. "I'll come back. I promise."

"I know you will, darling." Renton got in the car and gave Dominic the signal and Eureka watched as the black sedan sped away into the night. Oh Renton, she thought. Please be careful. Come back safe.

»»»»»

**Bagarov's townhouse**

Holland and Talho, both armed with sabers, knocked on the door of Bagarov's townhouse, knowing he would have to answer. The only way to deal with this man was to fight and defeat him, to make sure the deception would stop. Bagarov opened the door wide and greeted the two GekkoStaters with a smile.

"General Novakov, Miss Talho, please come in. It must be dreadfully cold." They enetered and followed him into the front room.

"We hear there is a new member in the ranks of the UBF," Holland said firmly.

"Is that right…Comrade Lieutenant Bagarov?" Talho asked knowingly. Bagarov turned and an evil smile formed on his face.

"So…you two know, don't you?"

"Surprised?" they asked in unison, mischievous grins on their faces.

"Your conceit blinds the both of you. Now you will experience the full weight and power of Revolution." Bagarov jumped up into the air and kicked the two of them in the head, sending them flying up against the wall and falling to the floor. Bagarov landed lightly on his feet and stepped closer, cackling. "I cannot tell you how long I have waited for this moment…my White Russian friends." The two looked up, slightly dazed, at their foe. He wore his red armband on his right forearm and a saber at his side. He smiled broadly, cackling menacingly. "At last! GekkoState will be no more!"

The couple stood up and stared him down with unflinching eyes.

"Not as long as we have anything to say about it!" Holland and Talho released a powerful kick of their own that sent Bagarov flying across the room up against the opposite wall and falling to the floor. "Your deceit is at an end, and it wasn't short enough!" Bagarov growled as he ran to the door only to find it blocked by Holland and Talho, standing back to back, smiling. They slowly drew their sabers. "If you are as powerful as you say…why leave?" Bagarov stepped back, grinning and reaching for the saber locked in its scabbard.

"You two cannot stop me! No one can! Comrade Hart will become more powerful than any of us!" He drew his sword and pointed it at the couple.

"Perhaps your faith in Jane is misplaced, as is your faith in communism."

Bagarov raised his sword and brought it down, only to have it blocked by Holland and Talho circled to the right of Bagarov. Bagarov cackled as he tried to strike a blow at Talho, only to have it parried by her. Bagarov went for Holland again, but Talho got in front and blocked his move, staring at him with glistening eyes. Bagarov laughed as they took two more shots, the hatred and lust to kill swelling in him now. The fight grew with more intensity as the couple took more hits at him, forcing him back up the stairs and into the upper floors, all the while trying to score a blow. All the couple managed to do was to cut at his shoulders, but it was not enough to cripple Bagarov. Bagarov leaped into the air and kicked them in the chest, sending them to the ground as he ran for the stairs to the top level, the observation level. Talho jumped in front of the stairs and pointed her saber at him.

"You won't escape that easily." Bagarov smiled.

"Oh no?" Holland stood up and faced behind Bagarov, sword drawn.

"No," he said slowly.

"NO ONE CAN STOP US!" Bagarov kicked Holland and struck multiple hits at Talho, all being blocked, forcing her up the stairs and up to the very top of the townhouse. Talho was excellent with the sword and blocked every single move by Bagarov, although she was being forced to the edge. She stopped and fought back, and the two stood in the middle, their swords crossing each other. Talho kicked Bagarov and cut at his leg. Bagarov grasped his left leg, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"WENCH!" Bagarov screamed.

"No one calls my Talho a wench and gets away with it!" Holland struck from behind only to be blocked again. Talho struck another blow on Bagarov's leg, the blood dripping on her blade. Bagarov tried to defend himself as they attacked with more intensity, forcing him to the edge of the top level. Another step back and he would fall ten stories to the street below.

"We're going to end this deception once and for all!" the couple cried in unison. Bagarov stood uneasily on the railing, sword in hand. He blocked a few more blows from Holland and Talho until Talho kicked the sword out of his hand and Holland ran his sword through Bagarov's abdomen, blood flowing down the blade in streams. Bagarov groaned as his eyes rolled back and he fell, screaming.

"NYEEEEEEEEETTTT!" He hit the round with a crack, and blood seeped from his dead body. Holland and Talho looked down on their fallen foe, the blood dripping off their sabers.

"Evil men die just as they lived," Talho said walking back to the stairs. Holland nodded and growled softly in anger at all the deception and trickery as they headed back to GekkoState headquarters. Their hopes now rested with Renton. They could only hope he was up to the challenge.

»»»»»

**Former Resistance headquarters, Little Kiev**

Jane had already killed the resistance leaders and thus eliminated any chance of reinforcement from the north. She looked out on the river that the headquarters sat beside, thinking about all that she had done, up to that point.

She met Renton, the charming Yankee and fell in love with him at first sight three years ago. She allowed him to go to Stalingrad to help his friend, which was now to her the biggest mistake she made. She made a move on him that ended in failure. He forgave her, but their friendship was always shaky. She followed him on this damn self-righteous crusade, all because of him, despite her not wanting to get involved in fighting. All she wanted was him. Now she had taken blood, killed for the first time, unknowingly deceived by a lie. All to lure him and have him as hers. A tear fell from her eye, realizing all she had done. She was the worst kind of person. She turned away from the sight of the river, coming to terms with the facts. She was with the Red Shirts now, and she was now fighting for the Revolution. It was too late to go back. If she couldn't have him…nobody would have him. She then heard a car pull up and saw a black sedan…

With Renton inside.

She rushed out to the entrance of the headquarters and saw him step out of the car, dressed in his trench coat, high black socks, grey knickerbockers, black Oxford shoes, and a saber in a gold scabbard at his side.

"I didn't think you would come, Renton," she said, smiling. Renton looked at her with the sternest of stares. Those eyes threw daggers, piercing into her soul.

"I know what you've done, Jane!" Jane's eyes widened. He knew. He knew about Bagarov. He knew about what she had done. "Jane, I want to help you. Come back to us while you still can. You're a good person. Don't do this. Come back and leave everything else while you still can!" Jane smiled and looked down at her shoes, some of the blood from the resistance leaders spattered on them. The fool. It was too late for her. She raised her head and spoke.

"I don't have to run away anymore. I and my comrades are more powerful than GekkoState. We can end this war and rule over this country, make things the way we want them to!" Renton's eyes widened in disbelief. Bagarov must know how to brainwash, he said.

"My God, you got it worse than I thought. I don't believe what I'm hearing! You've changed a lot from the girl I met in '42."

"Aww, for the better?" she said sarcastically, smiling.

"You're going down a path none of us can follow, Jane!"

"Because of your little 'democracy'?"

"Because of what you have done! Of what you're planning to do! Stop now and come back to our side, Jane! We're your friends! We want to help you!" Jane frowned. What a lie, she thought.

"LIAR! YOU CAME HERE TO KILL ME!" They walked in a circle, eyeing each other, the love that she had for him slipping away with each word. "You turned GekkoState against me!"

"You did that yourself."

"YOU WILL NOT TAKE EVERYONE AWAY FROM ME!"

"Your lust and rage have done that already. You have allowed these communists to twist your mind until now…until now you have become the thing we all committed ourselves to destroy."

"Don't preach to me, Renton. I see through your lies! I see past the lies of the Americans! I don't fear communism the way you and the others do!" They stopped and Jane turned her back to him, shouting into dark night sky, "We are bringing peace, justice and protection to our new world order!" Renton's jaw dropped. She was sounding more and more like a Red Shirt.

"New world order? I can't believe what I am hearing!"

"Don't force me to kill you, Renton."

"Jane, my allegiance is to the Constitution, to the United States, to democracy!"

"If you are against me…then you are my enemy!" Renton sighed heavily as he reached for his saber, seeing Jane brainwashed more than he expected, Dominic and Anemone looking on in concern.

"I will do what I have to," Renton said resigned, pulling the saber given to him by Jacques from the scabbard. Jane reached for her sword and drew it as well, a duel imminent.

"You can try…my old friend." She turned to him, staring him down with her ocean blue eyes, glinting in the moonlight no longer with the lust she once had for him, but the lust to kill him. He betrayed her, and he must pay! She charged him with her saber in hand. "You brought this upon yourself!" She lunged and tried to strike a blow only to have it blocked by Renton. Renton, reluctant and unwilling to kill the friend he had known for three years, continued to reason as he fought.

_(A/N: Cue Duel of the Fates here)_

"Jane, please!"

"You can't stop me!" She kicked him in the chest, sending him back before coming at him again. Renton blocked another blow and tried to score a few of his own, forcing her back. He threw a kick of his own and she hit a crate of supplies.

"I WON'T LET YOU FOLLOW THIS PATH!" Jane charged him again and their swords crossed each other. She tried to kick him in the face but he ducked.

"You're too late!" She spluttered, lunging again at him. He blocked it once more and they changed positions, trying to get behind the other.

"Communism is not the way!" She kicked him in the chest sending him back towards the entrance of the headquarters. Once more he tried to talk some sense into her.

"Jane, please! Come back to the light! Face up to what you have done! I can help you! _We_ can help you!"

"It's too late for that, Renton. _You're_ too late. You only want to help yourself!"

"You know in your heart that isn't true!"

Jane, lost in bloodlust, brought her saber down on him only to have it blocked. She kicked Renton hard in the chest and sent him flying into the headquarters of the former resistance. Jane ran inside and found him, saber drawn, waiting for her. She struck at him multiple times, laughing as she did so, thoroughly enjoying this. Renton, being an expert fencer in school, blocked every hit that came at him, all the while still trying to reason with her.

"I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU!"

He threw his own blows and, feeling thoroughly ashamed, threw a kick of his own across the face.

"PLEASE! LET ME HELP YOU!" Jane threw another kick and sent him to the ground, saying with a maliciousness in her voice,

"Save it, Renton. I heard it before!"

"Don't make me strike you down," he said getting to his feet. Ignoring him, Jane cast another blow at him, but he blocked it, their sabers colliding. Jane kicked him again and sent him to a panel with buttons and knobs. She brought her saber down but he quickly averted the blow and instead the blow cast thousands of sparks into the room, throwing Jane onto the floor. Renton got up and looked down at his misguided friend with a sad disappointment and shock. He thought she would be better than this. How was it possible that three years of friendship, albeit rocky, come down to this!? He left through another door, entering a lane marked on one end with supply crates and the other end with a drop to a lower level. Jane followed him, saber drawn, ready to strike him down, forgetting everything they had been through. She brought down her sword to try and cut at his head.

"You'll never defeat me! Give it up!" She screamed. Renton avoided the blow and sidestepped to Jane's left. Jane struck him again only to have it blocked. Renton, utterly astonished and overwhelmed with a feeling of betrayal that things had come to this cried out,

"You've become a puppet of the communists!" Renton threw another blow only to have it blocked and ran down the lane to where he could have more room. Jane followed him and Renton's and Jane's sabers clashed once more. They circled each other and Renton threw another blow.

"I shall do what I must to bring you to justice!" Their swords clashed again and Jane forced them down and hit him in the face with the back of her clenched hand. They circled each other again and tried to score a hit, but those days at fencing class really took. As they approached the edge of the lane, Jane cried out,

"This is your fault!" They twirled their sabers around and Renton reluctantly kicked Jane in the chest, sending her to the lower level. He jumped down to see her firm on her feet, sword in hand. She was always good in gym class and always did land on her feet. Renton once more tried to call her home.

"I only wanted what was best for everyone, Jane! I was never prepared to face…someone like you!"

"That's your failing, not mine."

"Maybe I have failed you, but I will not abandon you to the communists!"

"That's not your decision to make!" Renton charged at her, ready to strike, and he yelled,

"Your country calls you home!"

Jane blocked the attack and tried to throw a kick but Renton ducked. Jane looked at him in the eyes, with her saber in hand and said, with the dead tone of a mindless machine,

"There is only Revolution. There is only communism." Renton furrowed his brow. The friend he knew was gone, consumed by this monster.

"Jane Hart is no more! You killed her!"

Their swords clashed again and Renton was thrown by Jane against a pile of crates.

"This day will see the end of you, Thurston."

"I will strike you down without hesitation!"

In a few split seconds multiple attacks and counterattacks were made, all blocked. They were both good. Very good. Renton jumped to another lower level, with a bridge over the river behind him. Jane jumped down after him and struck another blow, cutting at his shoulder.

"C'mon, rebel! Defend yourself!"

Renton ran across the bridge followed by Jane, now lost in a lust to kill him. he ran to the other side and blocked a few blows. Jane taunted him, trying to entice him to her side.

"You think you have a chance?"

Renton's saber clashed with Jane's and the two looked deep into each other's eyes seeing in the other a person they hardly knew anymore. Jane had become lustful, given to temptation, deceived by an old lie millions of others believe. Renton was still that cunning and caring fellow, trying to see in her any trace of good left. There was none.

"Lay down your weapon and come back with me to GekkoState!"

"It's too late, Renton. I will not be part of your scheme any longer."

They threw each other a few feet across and circled each other on the wide bridge. Jane taunted him again.

"You call yourself a crusader!? THIS ENDS NOW!" Jane lunged at him and cut at his left leg, near where his old wound from Paris was, but it wasn't a bad enough wound to leave him seriously injured. Jane brought down her sword to try and kill him with one crushing blow, but missed and cut the ropes of the bridge, dumping the two duelists into the river and onto a boat that was floating below them. The two of them stood staring at each other. Renton knew the friend that was Jane was gone. Jane lunged at him and their swords clashed with a ring.

"You're nothing to me now!" Jane yelled. They broke apart and stared at each other again.

"I have failed you, Jane. I have failed you."

"I ought to have known you wanted power for yourself!" Renton's eyes widened in shock and surprise. Did she really think that was what he wanted?!

"Jane, the Bolsheviks are evil!"

"In my opinion, the Americans are evil!"

"Then you are lost!" Jane's eyes, with a malice Renton had never seen before, stared him down, throwing their own daggers at his soul. He would not waver, however. He would do what he must to bring her to justice.

"This is the end for you my old friend," Jane said menacingly. Their swords clashed once more and they stared at each other through their blades, now enemies.

"Lay down your sword and come back to us while you can."

"NEVER!"

She struck another blow and cut at his shoulder. He was smarting, but it wasn't enough to cripple the old fox. The boat ran aground on one side of the river and Renton jumped up the high ground of the riverbank. He called down to Jane on the boat.

"It's over, Jane! Give it up!"

"You underestimate the power of communism." Renton's eyes widened. He knew what she would do next.

"Don't do it!"

But she did.

Jane jumped into the air ready to strike Renton down, but Renton, on the higher ground, slashed at Jane's legs and her right arm, inflicting a crippling wound and sent her to the ground and to the side of the river, groaning in pain. Renton looked down on his old friend, tears in his eyes with the terrible fact of a broken friendship. After everything! After everything they had ever done! How could it have come this!? Renton called out to her.

"The people were counting on us! We were their last hope!" Jane looked up to the boy she once loved and tried to crawl up, but couldn't. The wounds in her legs were so bad she could barely move them. "We were supposed to defeat the communists, not join them! Bring peace back to this country, not lead it into darkness!" He took out a handkerchief and wiped Jane's blood off the blade of his saber, abashed at himself for striking down a friend. He picked up Jane's sword and looked back down to her, seeing in her eyes no longer lust, but simple and utter contempt. The love was gone. She then screamed, at the top of her lungs,

"I HATE YOU!"

Renton shed away another tear as he reached the top of the embankment. To think that it came to this! This! This!

"You were my friend, Jane! I trusted you! I loved you!"

Jane only groaned out in pain as Renton walked back up the embankment and to another bridge on the other end. He crossed it and came to Dominic's black sedan, and quickly got in and turned to Anemone.

"Anemone, get on the phone and contact emergency services. Tell them that we have a wounded woman who needs medical attention on the opposite side of the river."

"Okay, Renton." She got out and went to a phone booth and dialed a number.

"So…she's not coming back?" Dominic said, speaking from the driver's seat.

"No," Renton said quietly.

"I had a feeling. Something was not right with her on the first meeting. Y'know I always thought of her as—"

"Will you please stop talking?" he said, not wanting to hear anymore about Jane.

"What?" Dominic said in bewilderment.

"Just please stop talking." Dominic shrugged his shoulder as Anemone got back into the car.

"An ambulance is on its way, Renton. They should be here within 15 minutes."

"Good. Drive."

"Sir…" Dominic began, trying to comfort his friend.

"I said drive," Renton repeated with a twinge of annoyance.

"Y-yes, sir." Dominic started the engine and drove them back south to Cashville. Renton remained silent until about halfway when he started to talk to himself, completely abashed and feeling…helpless.

"Young fool. Young, stupid naïve fool. Only now, after the fact, after everything, at the end! Only then, at the end, did she understand! I see madmen beget more madmen everywhere, and yet could we cure their madness now! Oh, great God, where art thou? Shall we? Shall we?!"

He said nothing more until they reached the townhouse. He weakly exited the car and limped up the stairs, not looking at anyone. Not at Holland, not at Talho, not even at Eureka. He went straight into his quarters and locked himself in. No one was allowed to see him for the rest of the night. Inside, he cursed out his frustration and loss.

"Curse Dewey and his kind! Curse all the evil in this world! Curse the people who cause so much unhappiness! Curse the people who deceive and entrap and lie to achieve their ends! Pity to the fools who believe them!" He looked to the ceiling, searching for light, for God.

"Good Lord, forgive her, for she knew not what she did."

Outside, Holland and Talho lamented in secret with their friend while Eureka lay with her head against the door.

"After all this, none of us will ever be the same again."

* * *

A/N: After everything, after all they'd been through…how did it come to this? There is so much injustice in this world. It's enough to want to curl yourself in and not want to deal with anyone. Here's a preview of the next chap: 

_The beast's plan to destroy the Resistance fails miserably, and both armies are still stuck in winter quarters. On the night before Christmas, ten days after the clash between lust and selflessness ended, the boy is in a deep state of depression. The man, the woman, the soldier and his wife all try to lift his spirits with Christmas cheer._

**Next Time: No Holiday like Christmas**


	21. Chapter 21: No Holiday like Christmas

**Chapter Twenty-one: No Holiday like Christmas**

**Christmas Eve, December 24****th****, 1945**

**Cashville, California**

Jane had been taken to the hospital and patched up shortly after Renton left after their confrontation. The wounds she received were bad, but not enough to kill her. Renton would never bring himself to kill her, a friend, even if she _did_ betray them. After she was patched up she went back home to Belleforest of her own accord. She never got the order of expulsion from GekkoState; she deserted, never wanting to take part in any dealings that involved Renton ever again. All in GekkoState rejoiced, except Renton…

Ever since he confronted Jane, Renton had entered into a severe depression. He hardly spoke to anyone, or saw anyone. He was usually locked up in his quarters; no one was allowed to see him. Striking down someone who had been a friend for more than three and a half years can do a lot to someone, as all knew. But it was much different. He thought he could trust her. He thought he could count on her. He thought she was her friend.

Not all is as it seems.

The headquarters had been decorated for Christmas long in advance: there were garlands and wreaths hung on every outside door, trimmings and trappings spread throughout the room, and a small Christmas tree in the corner near a fireplace, lighted up and decorated. Over the mantle hung rows of red and green and white stockings, ready to be stuffed by Santa Claus. Outside Renton's quarters, on the day before Christmas, Anemone, Dominic, Holland and Talho all talked amongst themselves about Renton. Of course, as anyone would, they were extremely concerned about him.

"I don't what to do about him," Holland said depressed. "He hasn't spoken to anyone in days."

"Striking down someone who was a friend for almost three years can do a lot to someone," Anemone said knowingly.

"Whatever the case, we can't let him continue this way," Dominic put in. "If we let him go on like this, he could become a perpetual mope."

"We should just try and have some fun this day," Talho suggested, seeing an idea in her head. "Remember: this is Christmas. The season of hope. We should use this to cheer him up. We can't let him go on this way, especially today of all days." All nodded their heads in agreement and waited for Renton to emerge from his quarters. He was sure to come out from one of his dreams anytime now.

He had been having bad nightmares recently, reminding him of what he had to do. Reminding him of the thing she made him do. The thing he was least proud of…

"_Jane, stop!" he said again as he blocked another blow from her. "Stop now while you still can! It doesn't have to end like this!" Jane's eyes stared at him maliciously._

"_You're too late, Renton. Your little self-righteous crusade ends now!" _

_She brought her saber down over his head and he blocked it, trying to score a hit on her leg, only to have it parried. They stared at each other through their blades, each trying to see if they recognized the other any more. They couldn't. _

"_Jane," Renton said firmly, "come to your senses! If you put a stop to this and come there won't be any trouble." Jane said nothing. She only threw daggers into his soul with those ocean blue eyes, no longer filled with the lust she once had for him, but the lust to kill him. Their sabers broke from the cross they were in and Jane threw a kick into Renton's chest, sending him to the edge of the boat._

"_You're a good person Jane. You don't have to do this. Face up to what you have done and come back now! I can help you!"_

"_You are the only one you want to help!" Jane screeched._

"_Who are you trying convince, Jane? Me or yourself?" Jane only furrowed her brow further and tried to score another hit, only to have it parried by Renton. In a flurry of movements, each tried to strike down the other. Thrust, lunge, parry, riposte, double-riposte, and parry once more. In a few minutes, they were back looking at the other, their sabers locked._

"_This day shall see the end of you, Thurston," Jane said with a malice Renton never heard from her. Renton furrowed his brow, no longer able to see the friend he had known for more than three years._

"_Jane Hart is dead. You killed her!" Jane tried to cast another hit, but Renton parried it._

"_I should have known all you wanted was power!" _

"_Jane, don't make me explain to you again! I've said it enough times!" Their sabers clashed once more and the boat ran aground on the riverbank. Renton jumped out of the boat and onto the high ground of the embankment and called her home one last time, in a desperate attempt to stop her from following this path._

"_Jane, this is your chance! Give it up now and stop this foolishness!"_

"_You underestimate the power of communism."_

"_Don't do it! I'll strike you down!"_

_Jane ignored him and jumped off the bridge and brought her saber up to cut him down with one stroke. Renton, on the high ground, slashed at her legs and at her right arm, leaving large cuts. Jane fell and rolled down to the side of the embankment._

He woke up.

He looked around. There was nothing to look at; there was only a closet where he kept his clothes and a window looking out on the fields to the west. Eureka wasn't at his side in bed; he made no exceptions when he said no one would see him. He wanted to be alone while he tried to deal with this, the most despicable act he ever had to do. The one thing he hated himself for. He got up, took some clothes out of the closet and exited out the door and was greeted by the chiefs-of-staff.

"Good morning, Renton," they all said in unison.

"Good morning," he mumbled as he headed for the shower room. Holland walked with him and greeted him with a smile.

"I don't suppose you know what day it is today, do you?" Renton tried to think.

"I know it isn't Wednesday…" Holland laughed and slapped him on the back in his brotherly way.

"No it isn't Wednesday, but it is something very, very important." Renton stopped and looked at a calendar pinned on the wall. He ran his finger down to the day it was today. The instant he saw the name of his favorite holiday in red letters, his eyes widened.

Christmas Eve.

"My God!" Renton exclaimed. "Today's the day before Christmas!" Holland nodded and laughed.

"Correct. If you don't mind my saying so, old friend, we all think you've been down on yourself since what happened. Today should be a fun day for all of us, especially you."

"What if the Reds attack today?" Renton asked worriedly. Dominic laughed.

"My intel shows that there won't be an attack today. They're all cooped up in their little cabins for the rest of the winter. We can have fun today, chief."

"All things considered, you really need a break today, Renton. We all think so," Talho said, looking in concern at her friend. Renton turned and smiled.

"We _all_ need one. We've _all_ been under a lot of stress lately. But we're not going to have that ruin _our_ Christmas, are we?" All stood at attention and chanted as one,

"No, Commander!" Renton smiled and spoke sagely, making sure that the unfortunate injustice that had passed would not ruin their Christmas.

"We're not going to worry about anything today. For the rest of the day, we're just going to have some fun. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"And my last order is this: for the rest of the day, no one calls me 'Commander'. Get it?"

"Got it chief!" Dominic said, winking.

All laughed as they went to their respective businesses. This was going to be a fun day. This was going to be the best Christmas ever. Nothing was to spoil it. Today their only task was to celebrate the great day approaching the best way they could.

»»»»»

**A few hours later**

The gifts had already been bought to be exchanged tomorrow, so no shopping needed to be done. The couples enjoyed just walking around the town square looking at all the things on display in the store windows, each wishing and hoping that somewhere under the tree tomorrow there would be that gift they wanted. At the town square, there was a large Christmas tree decorated for tomorrow, a myriad of gifts under the large tree, gifts to the people of GekkoState from the townspeople. Such kindness and generosity. Such charity. It was enough to make a heart leap up and fly away. Close to the tree, Timmy, Maurice Maeter and Linck were all building a snowman modeling after the man they call "Papa Renton", using a stick for a cane, pieces of coal for the buttons on his coat, green buttons for his eyes, and an old flat cap found on the streets mounted on his head. Every time someone passed by it, they couldn't help but laugh and smile at the devotion those little children had to the great man on whom the fate of their country seemed to rest with.

A little ways from the square, Dominic and Anemone looked inside the window of a small department store, seeing all the knick-knacks and trinkets being sold for Christmas. Dominic was dressed in a winter uniform of his own design: A hat with ear flaps and a long white heavy overcoat with a tall collar. Along the silver piping and buttons, was a badge that bore the coat of arms for the United States. On the sleeves, there was a silver horizontal denoting his rank of First Lieutenant. Anemone was dressed in a winter version of her usual orange and white dress, furrier and heavier.

"Dom! Dom! You gotta see this!" Dominic walked over beside his wife and saw her eyes were stuck the glass of the window looking at a little gold barrette with a small soft pink flower on one end. She squealed at the very sight of it, wanting it so badly.

"Isn't it beautiful, Dominic?" Dominic laughed. He never fully understood about girls' obsession with things like hairclips and makeup and all that.

"Yeah, it sure it. I can't say I would know though; I'm not a girl." Anemone laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"You're so silly, Dominic. I want that soooo baaaaaddd!" Dominic chuckled and nuzzled her.

"Wish a little and you might get it." Anemone looked up at him slyly.

"Dominic…did you…?" Dominic moved his hand like a zipper across his mouth.

"You'll just have to find out tomorrow. Until then…you're gonna have to wait." Anemone slapped him in jest on the chest.

"Aww, you're no fun!" Dominic gave her a playful slap back and they engaged in a tussle, both laughing. The tussle soon subsided as they held themselves in each other's arms, their spirits high for this, the most wonderful time of the year.

"Let's keep going before you get your eyes glued to the window!"

Over on the other side of the square, a 19-year-old grey-haired goateed man wearing a black and white overcoat and a yellow ascot walked beside an 18-year-old woman with short dark hair wearing a violet and white winter dress and black boots. They looked in the shop windows at things they hoped they would get for Christmas. But there was something the two of them wanted more than anything: each other. They had been in love with each other since they first met in the Red Shirt prison camp, and they were completely devoted to each other. Neither of them had proposed to each other, but they wanted to. There was no other gift they wanted; all they wanted was the other's love and the other's vows to stand by them. They stopped and looked at the diamond rings in the window. All of them sent shimmers of light dancing in their eyes, truly beautiful gifts for any loved one on Christmas. Talho turned to look up to the man she fell in love with those few years ago and saw him looking on, something being thought over in his shining blue eyes that had the sense of compassion for all. For Renton, his old friend and brother-in-law. For Eureka, his little sister. For Dominic and Anemone, his new found friends in this new land. And most of all, for his love, Talho Yukieva. Holland and turned and spoke.

"Personally, I don't what people see in these things," he said quietly in Russian, smiling, pointing to the diamond rings. Talho smiled.

"I don't either. It's just a symbol like anything else," she responded in her native Russian tongue. Holland took a step closer, near the door, taking Talho's hand and whispering in her ear.

"There's nothing I want this Christmas. The only thing I want is to make you happy." Talho blushed at that, smiling. "The only reason I fight is because I know that after it is over, I will get the life I wanted back. There are so many here that want to see our lives destroyed, but somehow, I don't know how, I know they will fail. If I survive, I go back home to Belleforest with Renton and Eureka and the others. But there's something more I want. Something that will make my life meaningful, something that will make me feel complete. I know what it is I want." Holland looked into her deep brown eyes with his shining blue, conveying everything he felt, all the things he sought for, all the things he hoped for. "The one person that will make everything meaningful to me…is you." Talho stepped closer, seemingly knowing what he was going to say next. She was expecting it.

"Lubov…are you…?"

"Marry me, Talho. I love you." Talho's mouth turned that curlicue smile he had known since the time they first met and said the words that would make their Christmas all the better.

"I will, lubov. I love you." They looked up and saw they were standing under mistletoe under the door. They knew what to do next. The gap between them slowly closed as their lips met, sealing the vows forever. Nothing could separate them. They were made for each other. Each made the other feel complete and whole. Nothing could drive them apart. Not the Reds. Not anyone. They broke apart and walked into the diamond store to buy the customary thing that would act as the symbol for their union. It was just a symbol, as Talho said, but it was so important to the traditions that held people together.

In the town square, a scraggly brown-haired 19-year-old boy wearing a dark olive green overcoat sat on a bench with a 16-year-old girl with dark wavy hair in his arms, looking on at the little children playing in the snow, dancing around the snowman they built. They weren't saying anything to each other, only listening to the sounds of the Christmas season. Children laughing. Church bells ringing. People passing through the streets, knowing it was the last day for shopping. People singing carols. Through the great and joyous cacophony of the most wonderful time of the year, they heard a small group of townspeople singing a song that both found enjoyable…

_There is more to this time of year  
Than sleigh bells and holly  
Mistletoe and snow  
Those things come and go  
Much deeper than snow  
Stronger than the strongest love we'll know  
Or ever know_

_Don't look inside a stocking  
don't look under the tree  
for the one thing we're looking for  
is something we can't see_

_Far more precious than silver  
and more splendid than gold  
This is something to treasure  
But it's something we can't hold  
_  
_As long as there's Christmas I truly believe  
That hope is the greatest of the gifts we'll receive  
As long as there's Christmas we'll all be just fine  
A star shines above us lighting your way and mine_

"It's beautiful," Eureka whispered in Renton's ear in her native Russian tongue. Renton only smiled as he held her close.

"It is. It really is."

"Renton?"

"Da, milaya?" (A/N: Russian for: yes, darling?)

"What are you hoping to get for Christmas?" Renton laughed softly.

"I don't want anything. I have everything I want, and it's all right here in my arms." Eureka blushed and kissed him innocently, healing the chapped lips in the cold winter air, snow falling lightly on their heads. Nothing could break this moment. This was a moment of perfect serenity.

"If I want anything, it's for this whole stupid war to be over. I don't want to go out and do this again." Eureka put a finger to his lips.

"Don't talk about that. Not now. Let's just enjoy our Christmas."

"You're right. Forgive me, darling."

"I'll let it slide this time." They laughed as they shared another kiss, seeming sweeter than the first. Nothing seemed to matter except each other. For a short moment, there were no Red Shirts, no war, no evil. Just them. They wouldn't want it any other way.

»»»»»

**One hour later**

Out on the snowy fields near a wood west of town, two young men were building snow forts. On one side was Dominic Sorel, the 19-year-old first lieutenant in the United States Army, and on the other side was Renton, the 19-year-old commander of GekkoState. They had challenged each other to a snowball fight, the kind they once had when they were children at play. They decided to have one more, in memory of the good old days.

Renton and Dominic had finished their snow forts and were making snowballs when Anemone, who was watching all of this with Eureka, Holland, Talho and the children, got a bright idea. She tapped Eureka on the shoulder. Eureka turned to her friend and found a mischievous grin on her face.

"I got an idea," she said slyly. "Can you make a snowball?" Eureka demonstrated by picking up a handful of snow and rolling it into a ball before presenting it to Anemone. "Good. Now here's what we do: we sneak around behind Renton and Dominic and when I give the word, we let them both have it. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

The two of them slowly sneaked behind them, the two boys never noticing. Dominic and Renton looked up and called out to each other.

"Ready, Dominic?" Dominic laughed heartily.

"Ready to kick your butt!"

"We'll see about that!" The two picked up a snowball and aimed at each other. The two yelled out the orders in unison.

"READY! AIM! FIRE!" The snowballs flew through the air and hit their mark: right in their faces. Thus the fight began and the two threw snowballs at each other with an increasing intensity. All the while the wives waited for their moment to strike, their husbands not noticing they were behind them. The two young men were low on ammunition when Dominic threw another snowball at Renton and hit him in the face. Renton called out to him like he did on so many occasions in the old days.

"Dominic, you fiend! This was over before it even started!" Anemone looked to Eureka and gave an indicative nod. They raised their snowballs, ready to hit their husbands in the head. "Dominic, I will now consider your unconditional surren—"

WHAP!

"…der."

Anemone and Eureka fell down laughing at the sight of their husbands lying down in the snow, face first. Dominic and Renton turned around and saw their wives laughing at the funny sight. Dominic and Renton spoke to their respective wives simultaneously, giving same responses and getting the same answers.

"Oh you did _not_ just that!"

"You better believe I did!"

"I dare you to do that again!" The two girls kindly obliged them, and Dominic and Renton received another snowball in the face. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

"I'm on _my_ side!"

"Oh so that's your little game huh?" The two boys made a snowball and prepared to throw it at their respective spouse. The two girls' eyes widened.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh would I?" They threw it and hit them in the arm as they covered their face. "Now we're even!"

"No…" The two girls smiled wider and picked up another snowball and threw it at them, hitting them in the face again. "_Now_ we're even!" The two girls kept pummeling the two boys with snowballs, eager to show the men who's boss, until the boys got up and ran into the woods, far enough to be out of range. Renton and Dominic hid behind a tree and looked to each other, laughing and panting.

"Shall we join forces?" Renton suggested.

"Sure, why not? Doesn't seem to be much choice! Now let's get 'em!" Dominic prepared to run out into the open, but Renton had an idea.

"Hang on, Eager McBeaver. I got a better idea. Watch this." He turned to the clearing and called out. "LET'S GET 'EM!" He then ran in place and sure enough two snowballs plopped down in the ground near where they were. Renton pointed at them and faked being hit. "OH! They got me right on the forehead, Dom!" Dominic snickered quietly, now understanding the premise. "That's one."

"Don't worry chief!" he called out. "I'll get them!" Then he ran in place and two more snowballs came and plopped down next to the first two. "Oohh! Right in the kisser!" Dominic and Renton laughed quietly at their little ingenious trick.

"That's two. Now get a snowball and hide; they're coming in."

They got two snowballs and hid behind two tall firs and watched as their wives came in carrying snowballs, calling for them.

"Renton! Dominic! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Renton and Dominic raised their snowballs and were ready to strike. "We're not going to hit you! We got some nice presents for you!" Renton and Dominic threw their snowballs and hit them in the back. The girls turned around and got another hit to the chest. Renton and Dominic nearly fell down in the snow laughing.

"You two didn't think it would be _that_ easy, did you?" Anemone smiled.

"For a few seconds…yeah, I kinda did." Eureka and Anemone fired another volley of snowballs at the two boys and Renton and Dominic retreated to the left side of the woods. Renton suddenly had another one of his bright ideas. He turned to Dominic as they ran.

"I got an idea of how to win this fight. You stay here and hold them off. I'm gonna get some help so we can take them from the rear."

"You got it chief. Don't be long!" Dominic stopped and yelled Eureka and Anemone, "You wanna piece of me, ladies?" He threw a snowball and hit Anemone again in the chest. "Well, come get some!" The three then engaged in a snowball fighting match while Renton ran out of the woods and into the clearing, yelling to Timmy, Maurice, Maeter and Linck.

"You wanna help me and Mr. Sorel win, kids?"

"Yes! Yes!" They said, jumping up and down joyously.

"Grab a snowball and follow me, then. We'll take 'em by surprise!"

"YAY!"

The children all picked up a snowball and followed Renton into the woods, Holland and Talho laughing through this whole game.

"This just gets better and better!" Holland said laughing.

"Did you ever get into a snowball fight with him?"

"No, thank God. He and I were on the same side!"

Renton led them silently through the woods until they were behind the two girls, still throwing snowballs at Dominic.

"I wonder where Renton went," Eureka said as she threw another snowball.

"He'll be here when you least expect it," Dominic said with a smile. On that note, Renton gave the word.

"CHARGE!" Renton and the children rushed headlong into the girls, throwing snowballs and taking them by surprise. Soon the girls were surrounded and being hit from all sides with snowballs until finally they both yelled out, laughing,

"Okay! Okay! Okay! We surrender! Truce! Truce!"

They threw up their hands as Renton and Dominic went to their respective spouses.

"In the name of the Constitution of the United States Republic…" The wives gave their respective husbands a gentle yet passionate kiss, reveling in their togetherness through these little games. It was an act of bonding, in a way. It was all in good fun, anyway. "You two are acquitted of all charges."

"I thank you, Commander," Eureka said enticingly, running her finger along Renton's chest, "for sparing us."

"A victor is always kind to the defeated," Renton said as he slowly kissed her again, wanting this moment to last forever.

»»»»»

**Several hours later**

Inside the church in the town, the high-ranking members of GekkoState sang in one voice the hymns telling the story of the first Christmas. Eureka felt so good being in church, ever since the first day she attended Renton's church back home. Being free to believe in God was one of the things that defined the free society. In her old country, any worship had to be done in secret. She felt free in the churches here. She reveled in this freedom, perhaps the most important freedom of all.

The acolytes, being led by Renton's old friend Donald, brought the Good Book forward and Reverend Norb to read from the gospel, the passage that told the story of the first Christmas, and with it, the true meaning of this wonderful time of year.

"From the Gospel of Luke," Reverend Norb said reticently. He turned to the book and recited. "And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'

"The Gospel of the Lord," Norb finished.

"Praise be to you, Lord Christ," the congregation returned.

Reverend Norb went back to the altar and the choir, where Timmy, Maurice, Maeter and Linck all had places, sang one of Renton's favorite hymns of this, his favorite time of year. Soon the congregation joined in, the multitude of voices seemingly coming from the heavens, proclaiming the joyous news that brought hope to many in those times…

_Hark! The herald-angels sing  
glory to the new-born King,  
peace on earth, and mercy mild,  
God and sinners reconciled.  
Joyful, all ye nations, rise,  
join the triumph of the skies;  
with the angelic host proclaim,  
'Christ is born in Bethlehem!'  
Hark! The herald-angels sing  
glory to the new-born King. _

Christ, by highest heaven adored,  
Christ, the everlasting Lord,  
late in time behold him come,  
offspring of a Virgin's womb.  
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see:  
hail, the incarnate Deity,  
pleased as man with man to dwell,  
Jesus, our Emmanuel.  
Hark, the herald-angels sing  
glory to the new-born King.

Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace:  
hail, the Sun of Righteousness.  
Light and life to all he brings,  
risen with healing in his wings.  
Mild he lays his glory by,  
born that man no more may die,  
born to raise the sons of earth,  
born to give them second birth.  
Hark, the herald-angels sing  
glory to the new-born King. 

The congregation sat down in their pews and looked up to Reverend Norb approaching the pulpit from which he would give his sermon for this Christmas Eve.

"Good evening, my Christian brothers and sisters. We all know that tonight is a very special night. Tonight is the night before Christmas. But there is one burning question that I am sure all of us have asked ourselves at one time or another. What does Christmas mean? Sure, we all like to think that giving presents, togetherness, family, Santa Claus and going out shopping for presents might have something to do with it, but there is so much more behind it. We ask ourselves, how? Why? How is it that this most wonderful and joyous time of year came to be so much a part of our traditions? Well…that is the great story at which lies the heart for what makes this the most joyous and best season of all.

"Before the birth of Christ, the people in the Holy Land of Israel lived under the constraints of the Roman Empire under the first Emperor Augustus Caesar. The people were taxed to the point of poverty. The Jews had been persecuted when the Romans first entered the Holy Land of Israel. To the average man living in the Holy Land, all life seemed to be going more to one of despair and misery, and further away from one of happiness and joy, and man seemed to be drifting more and more away from the light. But one night, as shepherds kept watch over their flocks, as the citizens of the city of David slept peacefully in their houses, and as all went about their different businesses, a voice cried out in the night,

'Rejoice!'

"In this time of despair, in this time of abject misery, in this time when tyranny seemed to reign over all and hope was lost, a voice cried out, 'Rejoice! Rejoice, good people of Bethlehem! Rejoice, Good people of the Holy Land! Rejoice people of the whole world! For tonight, a ray of hope shines once more. Shake off the feelings of hopelessness you have carried with you during these times and rejoice, for unto us is born the child that will redeem us, the child who will absolve us of sin, the child that will keep man from going astray and more to evil.' That my Christian friends is the true meaning of this, the most wonderful time of the year. All the gifts we receive, the feeling of togetherness, the feeling of warmth with family and friends, all that matters not, my brothers and sisters, when it comes down to that. That night gave us the greatest gift of all. It cannot be wrapped, it cannot be stuffed into a stocking, it cannot be found under the Christmas tree, it cannot be grasped. Yet it is more valuable and more powerful than any of the other gifts we receive. The gift that guides us through everything, good times and bad, hardships and privileges, whether we be rich or poor, young or old, that one gift guides us all, and gives us the faith we possess. The gift is called…

"Hope."

Silence. He let them soak in the wise words. Truly, words for any to live by. The receiving of presents, the feeling of togetherness, all that matters not, because the greatest thing that this wonderful season gave mankind that night, was a gift that was more powerful and more inspiring than all the presents money could buy. The gift of perpetual hope.

"Amen," Reverend Norb concluded.

"Amen," the congregation returned.

Norb stepped down and returned to the altar. The service continued, going through the usual motions of any litany. Communion, the Lord's prayer, the Forgiveness of Sins, the Nicene Creed, and the donations given to the church by the congregation. It came down to the last hymn of the evening as the acolytes carried small torches through the lane in-between the pews, providing the only light to the congregation in the dimly lit church. They sang with soft heavenly voices the hymn they all loved, the hymn that seemed to convey the deepest feelings of hope this season brought, that wondrous night brought, that first Christmas brought the weary and seemingly helpless world.

_Silent night, Holy night  
All is calm, all is bright  
'Round yon virgin Mother and Child  
Holy infant so tender and mild  
Sleep in heavenly peace  
Sleep in heavenly peace. _

_Silent night, holy night,  
Shepherds quake at the sight.  
Glories stream from heaven afar,  
Heav'nly hosts sing Alleluia;  
Christ the Savior is born;  
Christ the Savior is born. _

_Silent night, holy night,  
Son of God, love's pure light.  
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,  
With the dawn of redeeming grace,  
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth;  
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth. _

Norb raised a hand and blessed the congregation, saying,

"My Christian brothers and sisters, go forth in peace to love and serve the Lord."

"Thanks be to God," the congregation responded.

With that, the service was concluded and all filed out of the church and wishing Reverend Norb a merry Christmas. When Renton passed him, Norb smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"Goodbye until tomorrow Renton. God Bless you always and have a Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Reverend." He walked out the door and Norb blessed Eureka, who was coming up behind Renton.

"Have a good night Eureka. God bless you and have a very merry Christmas." Eureka smiled innocently.

"Thank you Reverend. Merry Christmas to you too."

They exited the church and headed back to GekkoState headquarters for a good night's sleep before Christmas morning. Outside the townhouse that made the headquarters, a small group of carolers sang a song that did not fail to bring a tear to all, wishing them a good night and hoping that God watched over them.

_Bless this house O Lord we pray; Make it safe by night and day;  
Bless these walls so firm and stout, Keeping want and trouble out:  
Bless the roof and chimneys tall; Let thy peace lie over all;  
Bless this door that it may prove ever open to joy and love._

_Bless these windows shining bright, Letting in God's heavenly light;  
Bless the hearth a'blazing there, with smoke ascending like a prayer;  
Bless the folk who dwell within, Keep them pure and free from sin;  
Bless us all that we may be Fit O Lord to dwell with thee;  
Bless us all that one day we May dwell O Lord with thee._

The carolers wished them a good night and a merry Christmas as Renton and the others went into the townhouse to their respective quarters after a long shower and warming up. Renton and Eureka however, went up to the top floor, looking at the bright stars lighting up the winter sky. Eureka was held tightly in Renton's arms, nuzzling him, looking up at the beautiful sky, seeing a night of perfect serenity. Nothing could disturb this moment. This was forever.

"I love this time of year," Renton whispered in her ear.

"Me too."

"It can really turn someone around. It can really change someone."

"Like you?"

"Well…yeah. Ever since I faced her, I've never felt alright. But today…it gave me the little boost I needed. I really needed this Christmas."

"We wouldn't have liked it anyway if you turned into a mope."

"Yep. No one likes a mope."

At that moment, a little chorus down on the streets struck up the carol they heard earlier that day, that carol they heard in the town square. The chorus was being led by a young woman of French descent, reprising the words that everyone longed to hear this Christmas…

_When I felt lost and lonely  
Not a dream in my head  
Your words lifted my spirits high  
Remember what you said_

_As long as there's Christmas, I truly believe  
That hope is the greatest of the gifts we'll receive._

_As long as our guiding star shines above...  
There'll always be Christmas...  
So there always will be a time when the world is filled with peace and love._

On the last chords of the carol, Renton could no longer hold back. He kissed her deeply, loving the love he had for her, the love he had for everyone whom he knew, and this, his favorite time of the season only strengthened it. And they knew that there was one gift they received this Christmas and would keep for the rest of their lives as long as they held it close to their hearts: the gift of hope. Hope is eternal, and everlasting. The light of hope never burns out, no matter what evils may mock it. Hope…when someone believes in something when common sense tells one not to. The gift of hope, the most important thing one can do in a weary war-torn world, and the thing that is vital to the hearts and minds of freedom-loving people. Hope never dies. Hope lives as love does: forever and ever.

The air started to get colder and colder, and the couple went back inside, had a quick shower and into their quarters, the barrier of isolation lifted by Renton. They lay down beside each other on the cot, the love they had since he came back to save her intensifying with each passing moment. Love _was_ eternal, they thought. And still is. Their hands clasped, they slowly drifted off to sleep and if one could listen closely once could barely make out the words,

"Merry Christmas, my darling. I love you."

»»»»»

**Christmas Day, December 25****th****, 1945**

The sun shone down through the window of the little bedroom in the townhouse that made the headquarters for GekkoState. Renton and Eureka were locked in each other's arms, holding the other tightly. They found warmth in their own company that night. There were no nightmares, no hauntings of what he had to do to bring Jane to justice, only calm and serenity and love. Eureka was the first to wake and look in her husband's eyes as they slowly opened to the breaking dawn.

"Good morning, lubov," she said sweetly, "and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, darling." He kissed her on the cheek which turned them bright red. They laughed quietly as they arose from their cot and walked outside to be surprised by the chiefs-of-staff yelling,

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, RENTON AND EUREKA!"

The couple nearly jumped out of their pajamas, they were scared to death. The chiefs-of-staff laughed as did the young couple as they emerged from their quarters and went into the general living area to where the Christmas tree was. The chiefs-of-staff and the children crowded around the tree to see what gift was granted to them this Christmas.

Renton got more books from most, usually about the military and military history, but there was one gift that came from Donald, his old Christian friend from back home: inside a rectangular box there was a little gold necklace with a cross, much like the one Donald was often never seen without. Faith was a great gift, and the gift of hope was even greater. Holland got another book on American history from Renton, a book chronicling the military history of Russia before the Revolution, and a military field manual from Dominic. Talho got the engagement ring she and Holland found in the diamond store and set aside the time for the marriage, making it in one month's time, while the snow was still around. Dominic got a brand new whistle to call on the men of his Dog Company from Holland and one of Renton's military history books ("I've got so many books lining the walls I don't have walls anymore," Renton commented to the laugh of everyone) and a new wristwatch from Anemone. Anemone received a silver necklace with a heart on it and the gold barrette with the soft pink flower from Dominic. Wish a little and one can get what they wanted on Christmas.

Maurice, Maeter, and Linck all received on of Renton's books: _The Night Before Christmas_ while Timmy got a pop-gun that would be sure to scare the pants of any Red who had the misfortune of crossing their path

Eureka received different bracelets and another gold hairclip like Anemone's, but there was one gift she received that stood out above all the others. The gift Renton gave: A small necklace with a star-inscribed cross, shining in the night on the first Christmas, the star that guided the three wise men to find the baby savior, the star of Bethlehem. The star that gave the people of the Holy Land newfound hope.

"It is with hope and faith we can prove to ourselves that we are who we say we are," Renton said quietly. "The instant we start doubting, the instant we question our faith and everything in which we believe…that is the instant when freedom meets its end."

The rest of the day was spent in festivities and singing and listening to Christmas songs, hearing the joyous carolers outside singing the songs which proclaimed joy and love to a weary and helpless world. Of all the gifts received this day, none was more important or greater than that gift which could not be grasped. The one gift which can turn anyone, even someone on the road to becoming a mope like Renton, around and instill joy to all. The one gift which exceeds all others: the gift of hope.

_Joy to the world! the Lord is come;  
Let earth receive her King;  
Let every heart prepare him room,  
And heaven and nature sing,  
And heaven and nature sing,  
And heaven, and heaven, and nature sing._

_Joy to the world! the Saviour reigns;  
Let men their songs employ;  
While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains  
Repeat the sounding joy,  
Repeat the sounding joy,  
Repeat, repeat the sounding joy._

_No more let sins and sorrows grow,  
Nor thorns infest the ground;  
He comes to make His blessings flow  
Far as the curse is found,  
Far as the curse is found,  
Far as, far as, the curse is found._

_He rules the world with truth and grace,  
And makes the nations prove  
The glories of His righteousness,  
And wonders of His love,  
And wonders of His love,  
And wonders, wonders, of His love._

Peace on Earth. Good will to men. And to those with the gifts of hope, joy, and love in their hearts, Merry Christmas.

* * *

A/N: This has to be the most fun chapter I think I have put up yet. Merry Christmas (soon to be) everyone! Peace on earth and good will to men! Here's the next chap: 

_The time of joy and cheer has passed and all return to the important work of confronting and defeating the beast. The soldier and his wife are sent to join their Army comrades protecting the highway to the north, where operations have failed to stall the agents of the beast. In a last ditch effort to regain control of the highway, the Army launches multiple offensives, placing the hope of free people everywhere with the guardians of liberty._

**Next Time: The Highway Three Offensives**


	22. Chapter 22: The Highway Three Offensives

**Chapter Twenty-two: The Highway Three Offensives**

**January 10****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere along Highway Three**

In the midst of a pounding snowstorm, a black-haired grey-eyed 19-year-old first lieutenant sat alone in a little log cabin that made his personal quarters. Things had not been going well on Highway Three, and his 18-year-old wife had gone back to school, the Christmas vacation over eight days after New Year's Day. Ever since he had received orders of transfer from Cashville to Highway Three on the 26th, he and his company of soldiers had been stuck in their cabins as the United States Army tried in vain to recapture Highway Three for the United States. Sergey Pavlenko, the commander of the Red Shirt forces on Highway Three, had recently been promoted to Major and had launched several counteroffensives against the army, all but capturing Highway Three for the Soviets. The new intelligence offered a ray of hope, however:

The Red Shirt forces were widely dispersed across the highway, troops placed at every conceivable point from which the Army would attack. The Army had been attacking the positions one at a time, allowing the Reds to transfer troops to reinforce the positions. The lieutenant knew that the only way to dislodge the Reds was to strike them all at once.

He sighed heavily. If only she were here with me, he thought. She would make this more bearable. I ought to find a way to keep her here longer. But how? He smiled tiredly, and reached for the telephone on his desk, wanting desperately to speak to her, to confide in her his deepest sense of longing. He missed her so much.

"Operator? Connect me to the Sorel residence please. Belleforest, California." There followed a short bout of "booop…booop" signifying that the other side was ringing. Soon he heard a click and heard her sweet voice.

"Hello? Hello?"

"Hello, yourself," he responded. He heard a short small gasp of joy and heard her whisper his name.

"Dominic…"

"Hi, Anemone. I thought I might call to see how you were doing. Long time, no hear, huh?"

"You said it."

"Whatcha doing right now?"

"Just sitting here in the apartment, thinking about you." Dominic and Anemone laughed.

"Got any homework to do?"

"I did it already. We have this report in United States Government tomorrow about Lincoln's suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War."

"Wow. That must be a tall order."

"I get by. What are _you_ doing right now?"

"Just sitting here in my quarters, thinking about you." Anemone laughed. "I miss you _so_ much, Anemone."

"Me too, Dom. I wish I was there with you right now. If only the Christmas vacation lasted a little longer."

"Yeah. If only you didn't have school to worry about." Anemone sighed knowingly.

"Tell me about it. I wish there was some way I could be there with you and not have to worry about missing school." There was a short silence as both tried to think of something over the telephone. "I don't suppose there is anything _you_ can do…"

"Well actually…" He then felt her hopes soar over the phone, 25 miles south safe in their apartment, not having to worry about the things he did. "I think I _might_ be able to do something."

"What can you do?"

"Well, I can call the school myself and see if I can't make some arrangement. I'll tell them you've been a part of GekkoState already since this whole thing got started, and you got a very important position in here. I think we'll see a way of making a deal somehow."

"Oh, Dominic!" she chirped happily. "Would you?" Dominic chuckled softly.

"Of course, honey. I'll call them the first chance I get."

"Thanks a bunch, hon."

"My pleasure."

"I gotta go," she said unwillingly. "I got to prepare for that report tomorrow."

"Okay. Take care, honey. I'll be pulling for you."

"I love you, Dom," she whispered tenderly.

"I love you too, sweetie. Bye."

He hung up and sighed, wishing she was with him right now. He could almost imagine himself with her there. Stroking her soft pink hair, looking into her strange lavender eyes with his sharp grey ones, their lips coming together in a slow soothing kiss. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined what it must feel like. Soft. Smooth. Warm. He walked over to the window and looked out at the snowy white earth, watching the men of Dog Company taking part in a snowball fight while off duty. He laughed at the sight, remembering the great snowball fight he had with Renton before their wives turned on them and tried to show them who was boss. Those were good times, when the Reds didn't seem to exist, when for only a moment there was no war and there was only peace, joy, love, and hope.

He walked away from the pleasant sight and back to the phone, picking it up again, intent on fulfilling the promise he made her. She should be here with him.

"Operator? Connect me to Belleforest High School, please."

»»»»»

**Three days later**

Dominic had struck a deal with the principal, who was a staunch anti-communist and GekkoState supporter. She was allowed to travel with Dominic while she got notes and homework in the mail from the school. That way, she could stay with GekkoState and still be on top of school. Anemone had joined him on the 12th, and was now there to stay. She made the solemn commitment to follow him wherever he went. They had been married now for more than a year and a half, and they wouldn't abandon each other.

They sat in their cabin, awaiting orders to move. Some things take a long time. He had already proposed his plan to strike at the Reds in several places at once to Major Jurgens and was still awaiting his answer. Until he received notification of acceptance or rejection of the plan, there was nothing they could do. They were happy though. It gave them more time to spend together.

They sat in two chairs next to each other, wearing warm slippers and holding piping hot cups of tea with lemon wedges. Dominic squeezed his wedge to add a lemony flavor to his tea, but the juice instead squirted in his face, much to Anemone's laughter.

"Son of a bitch," he said sighing. Anemone giggled.

Just then they thought they heard shouting and commotion outside. They walked to the window and saw two men in the snow noisily building snow forts. On one side was First Sergeant Dan Seizo, Dominic's second-in-command, wearing a tightly wrapped plaid scarf and a dark grey overcoat, building a snow fort with the use of his gloved hands. On the other was Staff Sergeant Ronald Hitchens, commander of second platoon. He was wearing a white overcoat with a matching white scarf. His snow fort was more rough and bumpy than Seizo's. Dominic and Anemone, both wanting to have the afternoon to themselves, agitatedly yelled to the two sergeants,

"Could you two keep it down, please?!" The two noncommissioned officers beamed at the sight of the lieutenant and his wife, seeing this as an opportunity to have them join the fun.

"Lieutenant! Mrs. Sorel!" Seizo cried. "You two are just in time to enlist in my army! Join me and we will be able to defeat the White Menace!" He pointed to Hitchens, almost indistinguishable in the white snow with his overcoat, kneeling behind his snow fort making snowballs.

"That's me!" Hitchens put in loudly. Seizo went back to finishing his fort.

"I could start you two off as cadets, but with a little hard work, you can rise through the ranks and become buck privates!" Dominic and Anemone frowned. They would rather spend the afternoon together inside than take part in a snowball fight!

"Thank you, but no thank you, Captain Idiocy!" Anemone called.

"Yeah," Dominic quipped in. "You and Commander Ignoramus over there will have to fight on without us!" Dominic and Anemone laughed to themselves at their little joke. A stray snowball from Hitchens went over their heads, through the window and into Dominic's cup of tea on the table next to his chair. The two of them growled and shut the windows tight. Seizo called out to Hitchens in fun, trying also to entice the lieutenant and Anemone outside.

"Hitchens! Why'd you throw a snowball through the Lieutenant's window? That's tantamount to assaulting an officer! I will now consider the terms for your surrender!" Hitchens threw another snowball and hit Seizo in the face, all the while laughing his head off. Seizo wiped the snow off his face and got out from his pocket a funnel he used to make his coffee, staring down at the laughing Hitchens. He also had a snow gun of his own design slung over his shoulder. He quickly grabbed the gun, shoveled some snow into the funnel and locked it into the chamber.

"So…you wanna play rough? Okay!" He got on top of his snow fort and yelled, wielding his snow gun, "SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!" He fired, the weapon on automatic, and shot a whole stream of snowballs into Hitchens' mouth, until finally his mouth was forced open, filled with snow, choking. He then ran to the door of Dominic's cabin and quickly knocked on it, as Seizo said triumphantly, "Score one for First Sergeant Seizo!"

Inside the cabin, the lieutenant and Anemone were busy necking when Dominic heard a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," he said, reluctantly breaking from the passionate kiss they were in. He opened the door and found Sergeant Hitchens, his cheeks puffed, his mouth filled with something, trying to talk to him but couldn't.

"Oh Staff Sergeant Hitchens," Dominic said flatly in a sarcastic tone. "What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He could see he was trying to say something, and not very successfully. "Oh boy. Nothing like a nice entertaining game of charades!" Hitchens swallowed with a large gulp, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Sorry to disturb you, Lieutenant," Hitchens explained, "but I was trying to tell you I was choking on a bunch of snowballs but the snow melted and turned into water and then I drank all the water; now I'm better." Hitchens smiled as Dominic cast a glare of annoyance at him. As far he was concerned, this was an off day for him to spend with his wife, and he was not about to let his two best (if not idiotic and annoying) noncoms ruin it.

"Compelling story, Staff Sergeant Hitchens. Have you considered writing a book about it? I know you'll make millions." He slammed the door and turned back to his wife, smiling. "Now…where were we?" He began to walk over to her when another knock on the door filled his ears. Dominic's face turned red and he opened the door and yelled,

"WHAT IS IT NOW!?!" Hitchens was holding his groin and jumping up and down in the snow.

"Begging the Lieutenant's pardon, but could I use your bathroom?"

"Hitchens, go use the latrine down the road!"

"I don't know if I can make it. Please?"

"No."

"Please?!"

"No!"

"Please!?!"

"FUCK NO!"

"Pleeaase?!!?!" Dominic sighed exasperated.

"Okay fine. Make it quick." Hitchens ran inside and quickly used the restroom before emerging less than two minutes later.

"Thank you sir," he said as he exited the cabin. Just then, Seizo popped up from under the snow and aimed a snowball at Dominic and Hitchens.

"Aha! Aiding and abetting the enemy! I caught you red-handed, Lieutenant!"

"Seizo all I did was—" Seizo threw the snowball and the two men ducked. The snowball hit Anemone in the face and she quickly lost her temper.

"SEIZO!!!" Seizo's eyes widened.

"Oh, crap." Anemone, dressed in her white and orange dress, rolled up a snowball and was about to throw it at Seizo. "Shit!" He hid in the snow, hoping maybe the lieutenant's wife would spare him. Hitchens jumped up and down with glee.

"Yay! Lieutenant Dominic and Anemone are on my side!" Anemone cast an icy glare at him with her strange lavender eyes.

"We certainly are not!" Seizo beamed and jumped out of the snow.

"Then that means they're on _my_ side!" Dominic threw daggers at Seizo with his stern grey eyes.

"No, First Sergeant, we're not on your side either. We're on nobody's 'side'! If you two wouldn't mind, we'd like to spend our afternoon off inside, and alone!" Dominic stomped off into the cabin. Anemone dropped her snowball on the ground and scolded the two noncoms.

"If you two want to pummel each other's brains out with snowballs, kindly leave us out of it!" Anemone slammed the door and the two noncoms looked at each other, smiling mischievously at each other. They had another way of getting the two of them outside. They called out to each other so the lieutenant could hear.

"C'mon, Ron!" Seizo called. "Let's go pummel each other's brains out!"

"Right with you, Dan!"

Anemone and Dominic smiled at each other when they heard that.

"Now _that's_ something I'd like to see!" they said in unison.

They walked up to the window and looked out, hoping to see a good entertaining snowball fight. Instead, they found the two of them shaking hands, much to their disgust. Dominic, feeling cheated out of a good show with Anemone ran outside with his winter uniform and spoke severely to his two noncoms.

"What the hell are you two doing?! You're supposed to be pummeling each other's brains out!" Seizo then produced a signed document, the two noncoms smiling.

"We signed an armistice, sir. We learned that fighting is for little children."

"I didn't say that to you, did I?! Gimme that armistice!" He snatched the paper out of Seizo's hands and tore it up into shreds. He crossed his arms and smiled at his two sergeants. "There! Let the snowball war continue!"

"Uh, Lieutenant Dominic, that wasn't the armistice; that was a copy of the armistice." Dominic growled in frustration as Anemone opened the window and listened in, much to her amusement.

"Look! You guys are just giving up too easily! Now Hitchens, pretend I'm Seizo."

"And who am I?" said Hitchens, the two noncoms seeing a joke.

"You're Hitchens."

"Can I be Major Jurgens?" Seizo jumped in, joining in the joke.

"Wait; why?"

"Because he likes to yell at you." Dominic's face grew red.

"WOULD YOU BUTT OUT?!" Anemone giggled at Dominic's outburst.

"You can't talk to the Major like that, Lieutenant!" Hitchens protested in jest.

"I'm Seizo; you're Hitchens!" Dominic clarified, exasperated. Dominic picked up a snowball and threw it at Hitchens. "Now what are you going to do, Staff Sergeant?" Hitchens wiped the snowball off him and threw it at Dominic, much to the laughter of Anemone. Dominic wiped the snow off and looked sternly at Hitchens.

"Hitchens, why didn't you throw it at Seizo?"

"You said you were Seizo, Seizo!"

"Yes, that's right Lieutenant Dominic!" Seizo interjected, imitating Major Jurgens. "Now get back to work, soldier!" The two noncoms laughed and laughed as Dominic groaned in exasperation.

"Okay, I can pretty much see where this is starting to go. Let's just say now for all intents and purposes that I, First Lieutenant Dominic Sorel, am part of this snowball fight. Now—" Seizo and Hitchens cracked a mischievous smile.

"If you're in this fight, then where's your snow fort?"

"I don't have one, all right? Now—"

"You gotta have a fort if you want to play, sir," Hitchens said plainly.

"Forts win wars, Lieutenant!" Seizo said smiling, all the more getting the lieutenant's dander up. Dominic growled in exasperation.

"All right! Fine! You wanna snow fort!?" He piled some snow together and made a quick fort, just to satisfy them so they could move on. "There! There's your snow fort! Now…"

"That fort is too small sir," Hitchens said again, getting Dominic agitated once more.

"It's temporary, Sergeant Hitchens; it's okay if it's small. Now…"

"He's right y'know, sir," Seizo put in, pointing at the tiny little fort Dominic made. "That wouldn't protect you from anything! It's downright puny!"

"SCREW OFF!" Hitchens threw a snowball and hit his lieutenant in the face.

"See? It is too small, Lieutenant."

"Not if I get down on my knees! You guys didn't even give me a chance to get down." He then sat down in the snow in front of his little fort. "See? When I'm down here, I am completely, totally—"

WHAP!

"…defenseless," Seizo said smirking. Dominic wiped the snow off his face from another snowball Hitchens had thrown. Anemone was close to cracking up at the hilarious sight.

"Could you two please—"

WHAP!

"…stop throwing—"

WHAP!

"Snowballs!?!?!" There was a slight pause as the three men stared at each other, while Anemone was laughing her head off inside the cabin. Then…

WHAP!

Dominic had had enough. He wiped the snow off his face then threw a snowball of his own, but the two noncoms ducked. They turned to their lieutenant wide-eyed, secretly smiling that their plan had succeeded.

"Lieutenant Sorel returned fire!" Hitchens cried.

"That means war!" Seizo yelled, and the two noncoms raced to their snow fort, ready to give Dominic everything they had.

_Dominic, you frigging idiot_, he cursed to himself. He soon tried to extricate himself.

"Wait-wait-wait! I was just giving a demonstration!" It was too late. The two noncoms threw snowball after snowball, each one hitting their mark, pelting the lieutenant and leaving him unable to return fire. The rate of fire was so great he was almost buried in the snow! He growled and jumped up, wiping the snow from his uniform and yelled out to his two sergeants,

"OKAY THAT'S IT! YOU TWO ASKED FOR IT!" He threw his own snowball and hit Hitchens in the face, turning him as white as his overcoat. Dominic laughed in triumph. "I got him! I got him! In your face, Hitchens!" Seizo turned to Hitchens and laughed at the sight.

"He got you but good, Ron." He spoke too soon; Seizo was soon hit in the face with a snowball and the two took cover behind the fort as Dominic unleashed his snowy fury, throwing snowball after snowball until it became a continuous barrage. Seizo and Hitchens looked to each other worriedly.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea."

"No. I got a better one. We sneak around behind him." The two noncoms lay on the ground, camouflaged by the snow and crawled around the unsuspecting lieutenant, still concentrating his fire on the fort in front of him. Soon he was tired out and stopped to rest, noticing they weren't firing snowballs anymore. He got up and wiped the snow off his hands.

"I guess I taught _them_ a lesson."

"Wanna make a bet, Lieutenant?" He turned around and was greeted by two snowballs to the face, knocking him down on the ground. The two noncoms crowded around him and pummeled him with snowballs while he was still down trying to shield himself.

"Okay! Okay! I surrender! You win! You win!" They stopped and allowed the lieutenant to get up and head back to the cabin where Anemone was waiting.

Even if there _was_ a war on, all found their own ways to have fun.

»»»»»

**Cashville, California**

"Don't use the traditional attacks so often! Use the unconventional!"

Holland was in the middle of a fencing session with Talho. Ever since the duel with Bagarov, Holland and Talho had honed their skills as fencers and were viewed as the best duelists in GekkoState. Holland had made it a personal goal to train Talho as best he could to prepare her for what would surely be many duels with other Soviet officers.

Following Holland's words, Talho became more unpredictable and unconventional in her attacks, jumping in the air and circling around him to score a hit, although Holland continued to block them.

"How many times must I tell you, Talho? Control my central line!" Talho followed this edict and made a swift attack with her saber which Holland narrowly evaded. Holland smiled. "Good, lubov. Excellent." Talho smirked and then brought down her saber again, hoping to score a blow on him, but he parried it and riposted, only to have it blocked by her. They sparred again, their sabers clashing with more frequency and ferocity.

"Faster! Faster! Faster! Destroy my focus!"

Talho attacked with increasing frequency, but Holland sensed something in her style that was not helping her.

"You're grasping the sword too strongly…" Talho loosened her grip and Holland knocked it out of her hand. "…now too weakly." He looked over her saber and knew this was not the sword she usually fenced with. "This is a new one…" Talho smiled mischievously.

"I found it off Lieutenant Bagarov's body. I swear, if those Reds keep getting dumber, I'll have all their sabers." Holland frowned.

"Don't let your pursuit of idle objects cloud your judgment. Remember what I taught you, Talho. If we are to succeed in combat against the best of the Soviet forces, we must have fear, surprise, and intimidation on our side. But if any one element is absent, it would be better for us to retreat. We must break them before we take them on. Only then will we guarantee victory, have our trophies, and have our ordinary lives back." Holland gave back Talho her new saber, which she put in its bronze scabbard.

"Very wise advice, my old friend," said a kind voice from behind them. "Very wise indeed."

The two turned and found their friend and commanding officer Renton in a new look. Instead of his grey drab trench coat and knickerbockers, he was dressed more casually: he wore a white sweatshirt with red sleeves, dark grey shorts with a fanny pack and red and white shoes. The couple smiled at the sight of him. (A/N: Try to imagine how he looked throughout most of the anime series hint hint.)

"You look good in that," Holland said with a wide smile. Renton only scowled at his new look. He preferred his old look over this one.

"Too bright. Too colorful," Renton complained in a low voice, making sure no one would hear. "Gidget and Moondoggie were getting tired of my old look, so they bought me this for Christmas. Between you me and the gatepost, I'm only doing this to satisfy them. When I get the chance, I'm going back to my old look."

"To be honest, Commander," Talho said with her curlicue smile, "you actually look rather nice in that."

"Thank you, Talho, but consistency is the formula for perfection."

"But no system is ever perfect," Holland countered, his arms crossed.

"Touché, Holland."

"But enough about that. Have you spoken with Lieutenant Sorel?"

"I just got off the phone with him."

"How is he?" Renton shook his head.

"Poor Dominic. The Army is stuck in their cabins! They can't move! The Reds have strong positions along Highway Three but they are stretched thin, and they have already settled into winter quarters. The only thing that can change the battle now is if one side launches an offensive on the other. Do that, and control of Highway Three is assured. It all depends on who attacks first. Dominic has already put forth a plan of offensive operations along the highway, and is currently awaiting approval from Major Jurgens."

"If the Army launches an offensive first, Major Pavlenko will be forced to withdraw," Talho said knowingly.

"And that is precisely what concerns me. If he is to withdraw, he will have to march southwards, and we are right on his line of retreat. He will plow right through us from the rear."

"Unless we cut off his line of retreat," Holland said, seeing what Renton was getting at.

"Exactly. When we have received word that the Army's offensive has begun, you will move your brigade north and cut off Pavlenko's line of retreat, thereby surrounding him. He will have to surrender or fight to the last."

"Knowing him, he will do the latter."

"More reason for us to get rid of him." Holland and Talho looked to each other, knowing what he meant.

"When the time comes, we will take care of Pavlenko ourselves." Renton nodded.

"Until then, all we can do is wait." He then started to go. "As you were. I gotta change out of these damn clothes." Holland and Talho laughed as they went back to their fencing lesson.

»»»»»

**January 14****th****, 1946**

**3:30 in the morning**

**Somewhere along Highway Three**

The lieutenant and his wife were asleep in their bunk, wrapped in each other's arms, as a raging blizzard raged outside, the winter wind howling. They had still not received any orders or any confirmation of approval or rejection of the lieutenant's planned offensives, and they couldn't be happier. In this respite, they had never felt closer. Nothing else seemed to matter. The thing that mattered most was each other.

Rrrring! Rrrring!

The two stirred. They were still fast asleep, and not planning on waking anytime soon.

Rrrring! Rrrring!

The lieutenant groaned as he turned in his cot, facing the desk where the telephone was ringing. He sleepily awoke, seeing nothing but darkness, save for the bright moonlight shining through the window of his officer's cabin. He started to get up but was immediately pulled back down by his fiery pink-haired wife.

"Dominic Sorel. Do not. Pick up. That phone," she muttered sleepily.

"But it's ringing."

"Let it ring."

"What if it's Major Jurgens? Maybe he's calling about the planned offensives." His wife laughed drowsily.

"I'm not taking orders right now." Dominic ignored her and got up, despite Anemone's best efforts to drag him back down to bed.

"I'll tell them to call back later, if it makes you happy."

"It does." He picked up the phone and put it to his ears.

"Who's the wise guy calling up at this hour of the morning?" he said sleepily.

"Lieutenant Sorel?" a familiar voice asked. It wasn't Major Jurgens, but his secretary and wife, Executive Officer Maria Schneider.

"Officer Schneider," he said flatly, trying to ram the point he was making home. "May I be so bold as to ask why you are calling up at three thirty in the morning?"

"You needn't act that way, Lieutenant Sorel," she said, with a sense that she was having fun doing this. "I fully understand what you are feeling right now."

"You mean slowly getting pissed off as the minutes go by (excuse my choice of words)? You mean the feeling that can only be described by the phrase…"

"YOU'VE RUDELY INTERRUPTED OUR SLEEP!" Anemone yelled. Her outburst seemed to echo through the little cabin.

"Err…well, yes," Schneider said after a slight awkward pause. She knew as well as anyone that whoever got on Anemone's bad side was asking for it. "Understand too, Lieutenant, that I was sleeping as well when I was given orders to call you up."

"If it's the Major's orders it must be something important. Now let's hear it," Dominic said agitatedly, wanting to get back to bed with Anemone.

"It's only that your plans for the offensives have been approved by the Major and with the Major's compliments. He wanted to say they were the best plans he had seen yet. Congratulations, Lieutenant." Dominic's eyes widened. His plans had been approved! The offensives which were sure to guarantee victory were adopted by Major Jurgens, and with the greatest of compliments. But then his eyes drooped again. It was a moment of celebration for him, but he would rather spend the rest of the night with Anemone.

"I suppose that means…we'll be moving out?" Dominic said plainly. He knew full well the answer.

"Yes, Lieutenant Sorel. Tonight's a prime night to begin the offensives."

"In the middle of a blizzard?"

"Yes. The enemy won't ever suspect an offensive during a blizzard. You are to have your company in the forward lines by 0400 hours. Report to the Major when you have completed your task."

"Yes, Officer Schneider," he said lowly. Now he wished he hadn't submitted the plans at all! "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Lieutenant."

He sighed as he hung up the phone and went over to Anemone who trying to go back to sleep.

"It's becoming more and more difficult to get any sleep around here," she complained as she put a pillow over her head. Dominic sat down on the bed and slid the pillow off, looking in her face and seeing she was not in the mood for this.

"Your prospects for not getting enough sleep are excellent. The plans have been approved. The offensives are about to begin. We're moving out."

"Now?" she asked bewildered, rising from the cot. "In the middle of a blizzard?"

"Yes; now. The enemy won't suspect an attack during a blizzard, or so the Major thinks."

"I'll give that Major a piece of my mind! The nerve of him, waking us up at half past three to begin an offensive!" Dominic sighed and stroked her hair, smiling.

"Orders are orders, Anemone, and they must be obeyed." Anemone turned on the bed, away from him.

"Rrrgghh, who says?" was all Dominic could make out.

"Because duty and obligation come first. Always. You should know, hon. I taught you that myself." Anemone turned again, looking up to Dominic and knowing in her heart she was right. One can never run from duty and obligation. It was a lesson many had forgotten about. She growled and said, conceding,

"Damn you and your life lessons!!!" Dominic laughed as he went to the shower in the bathroom and as she got up and prepared to wash.

Duty calls, as always, for all freedom-loving people to defend all that is right and just.

»»»»»

**Cashville, California**

"All right, Dominic. Thank you. Good luck."

Renton hung up the phone and walked through the dark townhouse to Holland's quarters. He knocked on the door five times, his nervousness growing every second. This was urgent. This was serious. The offensives were about to begin! They must move quickly! The door opened slowly with a long and dreary creak, and one brown eye peeked out of the crack between the door and the door wall. He knew that eye anywhere. The eye of Holland's fiancée.

Talho.

"Talho, ya ogorchenn (A/N: Russian for "I am sorry"), but is Holland awake? Something has happened."

"Something bad?" she said with fear in her honeysweet voice.

"Well…I don't know. It all depends on what happens." Talho emerged from the crack, and showed her face, bearing her usual flowery birthmark on the left cheek, her deep earth brown eyes, and her short ebony black hair.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Dominic's plans have been approved; the offensives are about to begin. We need to move quickly." Talho gasped as quietly as one could, and disappeared from Renton's sight, turning straight to Holland, asleep in the cot.

"Holland, wake up quickly," she said shaking him. Holland groaned, muttering sleepily.

"Mmm," Holland groaned. He was not in the mood for getting up.

"You must wake up, lubov. We have to move."

"What for?" he muttered sleepily.

"Dominic's plans for the offensives have been approved. We have to move now." At those words, Holland shot up.

"What?! Approved?!" He got up, dressed only in his flannel pajamas, and rushed to the door where he found Renton, fully clothed in trench coat and all. "It is true then?"

"I just got off the phone with Dominic myself," Renton said plainly. "The offensives are set to begin at 0400 hours."

"In this blizzard?!" Holland said skeptically. Renton nodded.

"The Reds won't suspect an attack during a blizzard. They will be taken completely by surprise. That's your cue to move north."

"Pardon me, Renton, but are you mad?! We can't go out there in that snowstorm!" Renton placed his hands on his old friend's shoulders and looked him straight in his blue eyes.

"Holland, everyone feels the same way you do. We'd all rather stay inside than go out there, but it's what we do right now that makes a difference. It's your choice. Understand?" Holland turned away, feeling ashamed that he didn't obey the orders given to him. "Remember the oath we took: we are all in this together, no matter what happens. Neither storm nor rain nor dark of night…"

"…shall ever keep us from doing what's right." He turned to Talho and sighed, seeing in her that look which confirmed all what Renton said. Nothing should keep stop one from performing one's duty. Nothing. "Well…duty calls."

"You are to move your brigade immediately. The blizzard will provide you with enough cover to move undetected. This weather has knocked out their sensors as well as ours. Get your brigade formed up and move north to the south end of Highway Three. Understand?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Good luck to you Holland."

"Thank you, my friend." Holland and Talho then emerged from their quarters and spoke to each other. "Talho, make sure that everyone in the brigade dresses warmly. We've got a long march ahead of us and I don't want my brigade dead from frostbite."

"I'll see to it that everyone dresses warmly."

"I want no talking as we march. We need to move completely undetected."

"Yes, General."

"And Talho, do me one thing: don't call me General."

The two laughed as they separated for a change of clothes.

Duty calls.

»»»»»

**3:50 in the morning**

**Somewhere along Highway Three**

The moment of truth was fast approaching. The moment of the beginning of the offensive was only ten minutes away. The temperature was dropping dramatically, now at a nipping 25 degrees. There was no time to dilly-dally and complain. Many were shivering in the lines as they intently waited for the order to advance. The biting cold wind nipped at their faces, a thousand little knives striking them. They were dressed in winter camouflage, blending in perfectly with the snow. The element of surprise was key. Nothing could be overlooked. Everything had to be precise. Watches synchronized, eyes forward, radios at their ears waiting for the words to commence the attack.

Lieutenant Dominic Sorel, dressed in his personally designed winter uniform, (A/N: Imagine his winter uniform from the anime) checked the lines once more before returning to his spot in the center, next to Carl Ford, his radioman and Anemone, his fiery yet faithful wife. He looked out into the dark night, the moon providing the only light on this tense scene. He checked his watch. Six minutes to four. The time of the offensive was fast arriving. He turned to Carl Ford and got on the radio to his platoon commanders.

"All leaders report in." The platoon leaders quietly called out their respective platoon numbers over the radio.

"Dog Six standing by."

"Dog Five standing by."

"Dog Four standing by."

"Dog Three standing by."

"Dog Two standing by."

"Dog One standing by."

"Dog wife standing by," Anemone added. Everyone chuckled, as a way to ease the tension of the attack about to commence.

"Listen up, boys," Dominic spoke quietly through the radio. "Remember what I taught you. When we get out and head to the enemy, we don't stop. Not to fire, not to reload, not for anything. When we get to the enemy, you'll have only one friend: God. Don't forget that, boys." There was a murmur of "yes sir" and "you got it Lieutenant" among other confirmations. The Lieutenant had trained his men well. He looked to his watch again. Two minutes to four. How time flies when you think about everything you have ever done, the young lieutenant thought. He turned to his wife, seeing his pistol and ammunition at her side. He had given her the pistol since she had forced him (again) to have her tag along for the mission. She was prepared to carry the weight her solider-husband did everyday.

"Are you ready, hon?" he said to her once last time.

"Dom, I was born ready," she said with a smile on her face. She was strong and prepared to take on whatever challenges may come. Dominic looked back to his wristwatch. One minute left. One minute of peace. He spoke into the radio and gave his last words.

"One minute. Good luck, boys." He watched as the second hand crept closer and closer to the 12 on the clock. He turned to his wife and kissed her deeply, for fear that this might be the last kiss they will share on this earth. Closer and closer the second hand came.

Ten seconds.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

"Go!"

Dog Company rose as one from their lines and started towards the Reds on the opposite side of the field, warm snug in their tents and cabins. They had no idea of the fate that awaited them. They trudged through the snow, the cold wind blowing in their faces, nipping at them. They were wrapped warmly to prevent frostbite, but the wind and the snow kept them from moving any faster. It was no matter. This surely was a problem everywhere. They were silent as the grave as they crept closer and closer to the camp. All the enemy cabin windows were dark. No one knew they were coming. All the Reds were dreaming sweet dreams without care when Dominic, Anemone and a squad of soldiers came to the first cabin in the camp.

"This is our first stop," Dominic said, smiling mischievously at Anemone and the squad as they crept around the walls and to the door.

Dominic looked around and saw the other men of his company creeping around to the doors. No Red suspected they were there. Dominic turned to First Sergeant Seizo, whose platoon was split between two houses. Seizo turned to his lieutenant and Dominic nodded, giving him the go ahead. Seizo nodded and the two squads that made up his platoon broke into the two houses, capturing the Reds inside. Dominic took that moment and motioned the squad to follow him into the cabin. They bashed the door in and rushed into the room, finding a squad of Reds sleeping in their bunks. Startled by the noise, the Reds woke up and found themselves staring down the barrels of Dog Company. Dominic and Anemone, pistols drawn, stepped forward and gave them the usual speech for captured Reds.

"In the name of the Constitution of the United States Republic, you are all under arrest." The Reds looked to each other in bewilderment for a few moments, trying to discern what they just said. Then three reds jumped from their bunk and, dressed only in their pajamas, ran for their guns and pointed them at the Army soldiers. A shot was fired and an Army private fell with a bullet to the neck. A short firefight ensued and the three Reds were dead instantly.

"Come on, Red," a corporal quipped laughing, "you gotta do better than that!" Dominic shushed him, but it was too late. The little retort was enough to stir up the Reds still alive and they jumped from their bunks, running for their rifles, and trying to rush the army soldiers. Dominic and Anemone looked to each other and knew that if something was not done soon, they would all be dead. One word was enough.

"Fire!"

Another firefight erupted and the remaining reds were soon dead. The Red Shirts had refused to surrender, refused to turn themselves in, refused to listen to their pleas for peace, and they paid the price.

"Communist dupes," Dominic said sighing as he reloaded his pistol. The squad followed him out and Dominic found his platoon sergeants and their men escorting scores of United Bolshevik prisoners to the rear, where support troops from Easy Company were waiting to take them in. Seizo came to him and his lieutenant spoke.

"How many prisoners do we have, First Sergeant?"

"My platoon's got 16 right now, sir. I think the other platoons have around that many." Dominic nodded.

"How many casualties?"

"Not many. Couple wounded in my platoon."

"Very well." He turned to Carl Ford and quickly took the radio. "Battalion CP, Battalion CP, this is Dog Leader. Come in, over." Through the crackle of the radio came the gruff voice of Major Jurgens.

"Copy, Dog Leader. We read you loud and clear. What's your status?"

"We've reached the enemy camp and taken prisoners whom we are sending back to the lines. Standing by and awaiting further orders, Major."

"Good. Take up defensive positions west of the camp and stand by for a counterattack."

"Yes, sir. Over and out." He turned to the platoon leaders who had handed over the prisoners. "Men, take up defensive positions at the western edge of the camp! We got Reds coming!" Dominic then turned to Anemone and asked the question,

"West is the direction you point your fork in, right?"

Anemone laughed at the question. Renton was right. When it came to directions and maps, Dominic was a genuine idiot. The two followed the men of Dog Company, letting them guide them to the western edge of the camp, followed by Easy Company who had just packed the prisoners onto transports and sent them back to Battalion CP. They quickly dug foxholes and set up machine guns and sharpshooters in the windows, staring into the cold darkness, the winter wind howling, the snow falling more heavily now. There was silence across the whole camp, all concentrating on the attack that was to come. All eyes to the front. All guns to the shoulders. All nerves strong as steel. There was no levity now; this was a testing time.

"URRRAAAAAA!!!"

There came the shouts of the Soviet soldiers, rushing across the fields in scattered extended line. In an instant, before Dominic or Anemone said a word, they opened fire on the advancing Reds. The firing became incessant, the night lit up with the muzzle blasts of rifles, the zip of phosphorus tracer bullets, and the smell of gunpowder. The Reds were soon stopped cold and returning fire, but they were taking heavy casualties. The Reds were dressed in drab dark green winter uniforms, grey ushankas on their heads bearing the red pentagonal star, wearing the red armbands with the hammer and sickle on their right upper arm, sticking out in the snow like sore thumbs. They had no time to organize an attack and so they just came on, with no coordination and no plan. They had been taken completely by surprise, and they were no match for the Army regulars. In less than 10 minutes, the Red advance was halted. The firing intensified with each second, every Red trying to turn the battle around. But there was no hope.

Exhausted, disorganized, and battered, the Reds quickly withdrew in disorder.

The regulars cheered, seeing their enemies turn tail and run. Dominic and Anemone smiled at each other and shared a congratulatory kiss. They had won this day, the first of what would hopefully be a long string of victories on Highway Three.

»»»»»

**January 17****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere along Highway Three**

The battles along Highway Three had been raging for three days now. Grudgingly, the Reds withdrew, their range of control over the highway shrinking more and more. But there was a new challenge for the Army. With Pavlenko's promotion to Major, there was also the promotion of his chief aide, Igor Paitsev, to Captain. Paitsev was known as a ruthless and relentless commander, a Red Army veteran of the war against Nazi Germany, and a devout patriot and member of the Bolshevik Party. He had launched several attacks against the Army in the northern part of the highway. Whenever he attacked, he was unstoppable.

Along a wooded road near a small village, a line of United Bolshevik transport trucks rumbled down the road to a town where the Reds had a command post. The driver of the first truck, a dashing young second lieutenant spotted two figures in the road. One was a young first lieutenant, looking to be at least 19, with shaggy jet-black hair and holding a BAR in his hands. Next to him was a girl, 18, with bright red hair, almost pink, and wearing a flowing orange and white dress. The two figures smiled at the driver, seemingly knowing something he didn't. The trucks stopped, and the second lieutenant stepped out of the truck, escorted by a squad eight of Red Shirts.

"This road is closed," the lieutenant, Dominic, spoke sternly. What a voice for a 19-year-old, the second lieutenant thought. "These trucks are now the property of the United States Army." The Russian second lieutenant smirked. We'll make him eat those words, he thought. He called out to his men to ready their rifles.

"Gotovye rukoyatki!" The squad brought their rifles to the ready position. Dominic and the girl, Anemone, cast a smirk of their own. The unknowing idiots, they thought. Dominic turned to Anemone and spoke softly.

"Anemone, would you care to do the honors?" Anemone produced a pistol and aimed it at the Russian lieutenant.

"It would be my pleasure." She then put her free hand to mouth and whistled. At that moment, a whole company of Army soldiers rose from the snow, dressed in winter camouflage. They cocked their weapons and aimed it at the Russian lieutenant and his guard. The Russian lieutenant smirked again and called for his guard to disperse into a cover formation.

"obrazovanie kryshki!" The guard spread out in two lines covering both sides of the Russian lieutenant. Dominic shook his head, seeing that this wasn't getting anywhere.

"Lieutenant, you are outnumbered, outflanked and surrounded by 150 soldiers of my company. I would suggest that you lay down your arms while you still can." The Russian lieutenant pulled out his TT-9 pistol from its holster and aimed it at Dominc and Anemone, smiling maliciously.

"I don't think so," he said menacingly in a thick Slavic accent.

"Lieutenant," Anemone said seriously to their enemy, "there is no need for you and your men to die. Just leave the trucks and come with us."

"This highway is a possession of the Soviet Union, and I advise you and your company to make way!" Then another squad of 12 men jumped from one of the trucks and extended the line, aiming their guns at the soldiers.

About 50 yards away from this standstill, Captain Igor Paitsev looked through his binoculars, observing the young and feared Lieutenant Sorel. Dominic was known throughout the United Bolshevik Force as a fierce and yet remarkable warrior. Anyone who had the misfortune of running into Dominic's Dog Company was lucky to escape with their lives. Paitsev smiled. Here was a prime opportunity to cut down a key member of GekkoState just when he least expected. He turned to his radioman, Dimitry Pasilovich Pasilov, and spoke sternly.

"Orders for all commanders: forward."

"Da, Comrade Captain."

Paitsev's force, a company of 175 trained troops, rushed headlong toward Dog Company, with the intent of killing every last member of Dog Company, and seeing the end of Dominic Sorel.

Dominic, still staring down the Russian lieutenant, averted his eyes and looked to his right. Over the hill, he saw a large band of Red Shirts dressed in winter camouflage come on, led by a tall blonde-haired man carrying a brandished saber. He knew who it was. The feared Red Shirt captain, Igor Paitsev. He knew his company could not take on Paitsev's force, and so he had only one option: eliminate the force in front of him and retreat. He turned back to the Russian lieutenant and gave the order.

"Fire!"

All guns were discharged and the firefight started. The Russian lieutenant was killed instantly along with his guard. The 12-man squad put up a strong fight as the company closed in. Eventually, despite inflicting casualties on the Army regulars, the squad was destroyed. Dominic looked back and saw Paitsev coming closer. His company was not yet ready to face Paitsev, one of Pavlenko's best commanders. He ordered the men into the trucks so they could quickly move back to base, but some of the trucks were filled with Red Shirts. It had been a setup for Dominic to be lured and trapped by Paitsev. The men in the cars opened fire on the men of Dog Company, and casualties were taken on both sides. At one truck, Sergeants First Class Walcott and Hancock, commanders of third and fourth platoon respectively, took on a whole squad of Reds by themselves. They unloaded their Thompson submachine guns on them and killed a whole score of Reds who tried to emerge from the trucks. The Reds that remained were about to open fire but Walcott and Hancock threw grenades into the truck. They quickly detonated and all Reds were killed. They soon ordered their platoons into the truck. It was a tight fit, but they had to make do. Soon all the trucks were cleared and all of Dog Company were in the trucks. Dominic and Anemone, both in the first truck, turned to Seizo at the wheel.

"Seizo, get us out of here!"

"Yes, sir!"

Seizo put his foot on the gas and made a U-turn, forcing the men of Paitsev's company, who had just arrived on the road, to duck out of the way. The line of trucks followed Dominic's and they were soon speeding out of sight. Paitsev laughed as he watched the transport trucks speed away.

"Run, Lieutenant Sorel. Run. You only delay the inevitable."

»»»»»

**January 20****th****, 1946**

**Town of Illim, California**

**Somewhere along Highway Three**

It had now been made a goal to seek and kill, if not capture, Captain Paitsev. This man was posing a threat to the entire offensive. At one battle, before this day, the whole of Major Jurgens' battalion attacked three companies of Reds. Paitsev's company held the longest, and had taken and inflicted the most casualties before being forced to withdraw. Now, the entire battalion had surrounded Captain Paitsev in the town of Illim. There was no escape. No chance for relief. He had two options left: Surrender or die. He chose a third.

The roads were cut off, providing Paitsev with no escape route. His company was close to being decimated. Once a masterful feared force of 175 men, was now cut down by relentless attacks by the army, suffered 80 percent casualties, reduced to a force of 35 men. There was no hope for them. And yet they fought on. They chose to die for a false hope, a dying cause.

The men of the battalion kept coming at the small house that made the last defense for the Red Shirts. The Reds were outnumbered, and they were surrounded. But they had orders: stand and fight to the last. Orders were meant to be obeyed. They fought on, and died, one by one, as the Army crept closer. The Reds retreated into the house, knowing that all was lost.

Then, a hand was raised, ordering all Army troops to stop advancing. The hand was that of Lieutenant Dominic Sorel, his wife Anemone by his side. All soldiers ceased advancing and firing. They looked on, seeing the battered house where Paitsev was holed up. If this fighting was to end, they had to take care of Paitsev. Major Jurgens, dressed in his field uniform came by and spoke seriously to Dominic, wary of the young lieutenant's idea.

"Lieutenant Dominic, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, sir. Of course. I'm the only one who can put a stop to this; I'm the one he's after."

"Good luck to you, son."

"Luck? Major, in our area of expertise, there's no such thing." The major laughed quietly as the lieutenant and his wife walked alone to the house. They would deal with Paitsev themselves.

"Hon, are you sure about this?" Anemone asked. She too was concerned by Dominic's plan.

"Yes, Anemone. We're the ones he wants. Unless one of us goes down, it won't stop. It ends now."

Carrying only a BAR and a bayoneted Garand rifle, they entered the house, the Reds letting them pass. It would be decided by this alone. They walked up to the top floor and found the blonde-haired captain with a saber in a scabbard at his side. He looked to the young couple and smiled maliciously.

"Lieutenant Sorel, Mrs. Sorel. At last we meet. Truly an honor, sir." He gave a small bow as Dominic and Anemone took another step forward.

"Your reign of fear ends now," Dominic said. Paitsev smiled and slowly pulled his saber out from its scabbard, a duel pending.

"We shall see." Paitsev threw himself at Dominic and prepared to strike him down with one swift slash across the head, but Dominic blocked it with his BAR. Paitsev cracked an evil smirk. "No sword? You disappoint me. I expected much more of you, Lieutenant."

"Swords are for gentlemen and blowhards."

"Really? And which one am I?"

"The blowhard!" Anemone screamed lunging at him with the bayoneted Garand rifle. "Easily!" Paitsev parried the attack and looked in surprise at Anemone.

"Brave, but foolish, young one. You were doomed from the start."

"I don't think so." Anemone lunged at him again, pouring out all her aggressive feelings towards these men who interfered with their lives. Paitsev blocked every attack again and again, but was surprised by the aggressiveness of this young girl.

"What they told me was true. You _can_ fight, pretty one." Anemone grinned mischievously.

"You'll find I am unpredictable." They sparred in a flurry of attacks, parries, ripostes, double-ripostes. They were good. Those days in fencing class took. Paitsev then kicked Anemone out of the way and thrust himself at Dominic, who quickly blocked the attack with his BAR.

"Captain Paitsev, we're both sensible men. We can talk things out rationally."

"There's nothing to talk about, capitalist scum!"

"Captain Paitsev," Dominic said calmly as he fended off another blow, "there is no need for things to end like this. Just lay down your weapon and come with us."

"I'll never surrender to the likes of you, Lieutenant!" Paitsev tried to strike at them again but was parried by Anemone, who got in front of Dominic.

"You have no chance for relief!" she screamed, wanting this over with. "You are surrounded! Your company is decimated! Make peace with us now!"

"Don't underestimate our strength, pretty one. You will only pay for it in the end. Know that I, Captain Igor Vasilivich Paitsev, am not completely without mercy! I will grant you a soldier's death!" Paitsev lunged, attacking like a madman, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Die, American pig!" Dominic and Anemone covered each other, blocking every hit made by Paitsev, slowly being backing against a wall. It all seemed lost for the two of them, as Paitsev ruthlessly continued striking at them. Then, Dominic and Anemone turned to each other and smiled, finding the strength they never knew before, finding the courage greater than that of most men. The bond. The bond that had kept them strong throughout the toughest of times.

Love.

With one tremendous deafening roar, Dominic and Anemone lunged, and turned the tables on Paitsev, forcing him back with one blow after another. Soon Paitsev was up against the wall, trying desperately to defend himself against the combined power of the young wedded couple. Paitsev was now turned with rage, as he tried to fight back but couldn't.

"No! No! This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to kill you!" Dominic hit Paitsev upside the head with his BAR, dazing him temporarily. He then knocked the saber out of his hand.

"We can't always get what we want." Anemone then ran through Paitsev with the bayoneted Garand, the blood running in rivers along the bayonet. Paitsev's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed on the floor, dead.

"The price of arrogance," the couple said as they walked out. The remaining men of Paitsev's force, realizing their captain was dead, walked out with them, their hands in the air in surrender. Their war was over. Dominic walked back to the Major.

"So…he's dead?"

"Yes, Major. Everything's been taken care of."

"Good. Let's get moving. We still got a war to win."

"Yes, sir."

»»»»»

**January 22****nd****, 1946**

**South end of Highway Three**

It was the end. The end. Pavlenko was cornered. The army was approaching from the north and General Novakov and his Russian Brigade was blocking his escape route to the south. There was no hope, yet he had orders. He had to protect the supply line of Highway Three to the last. Orders were orders, and they were meant to be obeyed.

Pavlenko had come down with a cold in his head, leaving him with a sore throat and a bad hacking cough. Not surprising, considering how cold it was. He walked around his large expansive headquarters in his traditional Red Army uniform from his days as a lieutenant at the front during the brutal fighting in Barbarossa, Moscow and Stalingrad. Trailing him was a dark navy blue cape with a red lining. He cut an imposing figure but his potency as a foe was waning; his right-hand man Igor Paitsev was dead, he was surrounded with no possibility of escape and his forces were almost completely destroyed. In the eight days since the new offensives began, his command had suffered 70 percent casualties, reducing him to no more than three companies of 300 men. He was doomed, and yet he blinded himself, still believing it was they, not he, whose ends were near.

Holland and Talho had infiltrated into the base to find and kill Pavlenko, to put a stop to any pointless fighting before it began. Knowing Sergey Veranovich Pavlenko, one of the toughest fighters in the Red Army, he would not surrender. He would fight to the last.

"The only way this can end," they said, "is to stop the thing at its source."

They crept together on a catwalk, sabers at their sides, determined to end the fight and capture Highway Three for the United States. They crawled on their hands and knees until they were right above the Major, who was speaking to his three company commanders, formulating a plan for a final defense.

"It will not be long before the forces of the GekkoState Alliance launch their attack," Pavlenko said in a raspy voice, coughing and wheezing. "It will be necessary to organize a breakout." The company commanders looked to each other in bewilderment and shock. A breakout?! Fight back with only 300 men?! Impossible! "In order for the breakout to succeed, we will strike at the force that has suffered the most casualties: the United States Army detachment to the north. If we attack them while they are still under strength, we still have a chance of guaranteeing victory." A captain dressed in a Red Army uniform stood up in protest to this suicidal choice.

"Victory?!? Hmph! Lieutenant Dominic Sorel managed to evade your grasp, Comrade Major. Without Comrade Captain Paitsev, I have doubts about our ability to guarantee victory!" Pavlenko stepped to the captain, the anger seething in him, and stared him down with unflinching eyes, finding his lack of confidence disconcerting.

"You best be grateful, Comrade Captain. You have not found yourself in my grasp." The captain held his tongue and sat down, knowing he should be quiet if he knew what was good for him. "You are dismissed." The captains rose from their seats and started back to their commands as Pavlenko walked off, coughing violently and wheezing.

Holland and Talho stood up and smiled mischievously to each other. His attack will never even get started. They quickly jumped down to the ground and landed firm on their feet. They then said in unison,

"Zdravstvуtye, Glavnoe Pavlenko." (A/N: Russian for: Hello, Major Pavlenko.) Pavlenko and his bodyguards turned to see General Holland Novakov and Talho Yukieva, smiling at him impishly. The bodyguards turned their bayoneted rifles towards them as the other armed personnel surrounded the two brave figures. Pavlenko laughed in delight.

"Ah, da. Thurston's best warrior, and his lovely little fiancée. General Novakov, Miss Talho, a pleasure. You two _are_ the daring ones." He stepped back, laughing sinisterly. He then spoke to his bodyguards.

"Make them suffer."

The bodyguards walked towards them, carrying bayoneted rifles. Holland reached for his saber but Talho held him back, drawing her pistol and quickly shooting and killing the two bodyguards. Holland and Talho drew their sabers and walked calmly to Pavlenko, ready to end this thing. The soldiers surrounding them cocked their weapons and aimed it at the couple but Pavlenko turned a cold eye to them.

"Get back, all of you! I will take care of these capitalist slimes myself!" Holland and Talho smiled.

"Go ahead," they said in unison. "Make your move." Pavlenko snickered evilly.

"You fools! I've been trained in fencing at the Academy in Moscow!" He reached for his saber and drew it out of its silver scabbard, coughing. He brought himself to the ready position and leered at the couple. "Here is where you meet your fates!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Talho said, eyebrow raised and smirking. Pavlenko laughed and twirled his saber coming on at them. They waited as he came closer and closer, and then…

The duel began.

Pavlenko thrust his sword, hoping to score a quick hit, but Holland and Talho parried it, their swords coming together at an axis. Talho circled Pavlenko to flank him as Holland attacked him, focusing Pavlenko's efforts on Holland. Pavlenko cast his attacks wildly, flinging his saber around like a great axe. Holland blocked an attack to the head by Pavlenko and Talho cut at his leg.

"Argh! You'll pay for that, wench!" Talho then attacked him in blind fury forcing him back along a lane they were fighting on. Holland soon came to her assistance and the three swords were locked, the duelists staring down each other. Just then…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The headquarters was rocked by a bombardment of artillery shells and Army troops blasted down the entrance doors. The attack had begun. Pavlenko, ignoring the fact that this battle was already lost, turned to Holland and Talho, cackling.

"Army or not, you must understand you two are finished!"

"On the contrary, it's _you_ who is doomed! You won't escape this time!" Then Pavlenko raised his saber and brought it down over Holland's head, only to have it parried. Holland then riposted to score a hit on his leg, but it was blocked as well. Talho tried to slash him across the head but it was parried again. Pavlenko kicked Holland and struck multiple times at Talho, all being blocked, and forced her back to the edge of the lane. Twenty feet below was a lower level, and any wrong move would mean falling to a broken back.

"She can fight, this pretty one," Pavlenko said chuckling with malice.

"I have a good teacher." Talho struck again at his head, only to have it blocked. Pavlenko then counterattacked with a blow to the thigh but it was blocked once again. Then a voice came from behind.

"End of the line, Major!" Holland yelled as he charged at Pavlenko. Pavlenko blocked another attack from Holland and they circled around each other on the wide bridge, each trying to get around the other.

"Not bad," Pavlenko said smiling as he blocked another attack from the duo. "...for a couple of Czarists!" At this Holland and Talho furrowed their brows and threw themselves at him.

"WE'RE NO CZARISTS!" The fight grew in intensity as Pavlenko brilliantly defended himself from their attacks, coming from all sides. He soon fought back, forcing them down the lane. "You'll never take us alive!" Pavlenko smiled wide

"I don't grant you the chance. You White Russians are all the same: pathetic!" Holland and Talho changed position and soon forced him back to the edge of the lane, attacking him with more frequency and intensity. Soon he stood standing on the edge, trying to hold them off. "You two will not stop me this time!"

"We shall see." Holland slashed at Pavlenko's arm, knocking the sword out of his hand. Talho then ran her saber through Pavlenko's chest, blood flowing down her blade. Pavlenko's eyes, still filled with defiance and obstinacy, rolled back in his head and his body slid to the floor. Blood seeped from his mouth as he gave the death rattle, gone from this earth. Holland and Talho wiped their sabers clean of blood and put them back in their scabbards, walking away in disgust.

"So barbaric. Senseless waste."

After receiving word that Pavlenko was dead, all remaining United Bolshevik forces surrendered, ending the battle on Highway Three. The battle had been long and costly, lasting eight bloody days since the Army offensives began. The Army suffered almost 750 casualties out of 1,100 men. Pavlenko's regular infantry battalion was almost decimated. From 1000 men at the beginning of the campaign the force had taken 800 casualties. The remaining men alive were captured and taken prisoner. It had been a hard slog, but they were through. Highway Three was reclaimed for the United States and one of Dewey's chief lieutenants was dead, and with this victory, the GekkoState Alliance was one step closer to ending this destructive conflict, and bringing peace and justice back to their country.

* * *

A/N: Hip! Hip! (Soldiers: Huzzah!) Another victory for the GekkoState Alliance. This has to be my longest chapter yet, but it was soooo worth it. I hope all of you had a very merry Christmas! Expect nothing but updates, updates, updates from me until January 8th. Then I have to go back to school and I will be back on my regular one-chapter-a-week schedule. But enough talk from me. Here's the preview of the next chapter. 

_The highway to the north is secured, the Army and the Resistance victorious. Now in February, as the snow begins to melt, the Resistance launches one massive assault to push the forces of the beast back, and move forward. Who will fall in the next fight?_

**Next time: Call of Duty**


	23. Chapter 23: Call of Duty

A/N: Warning: Character death in this chapter. One of the three. You have been warned.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-three: Call of Duty**

**February 2****nd****, 1946**

**Cashville, California**

The snow had begun to melt, soaking the ground and turning the fields muddy. The time for winter quarters was officially over and the time had come for the GekkoState Army to get themselves out of Cashville and moving east. That would be no easy task: The United Bolshevik forces were on high ground 10 miles east. There was little cover save for a slight swale and a small forest to the left of the heights. The woods gave Renton a bright idea…

In order to dislodge the enemy from the heights, it would be necessary to stage a flanking attack from the forest while a frontal assault would distract the Reds. The Reds would then be overwhelmed and forced to retreat.

The Cashville militia had joined up with GekkoState, and little 14-year-old Timmy Garnett, the boy who idolized Renton, had his sights set on joining to take part in what Renton had taken part in for a good part of his life. To prove himself. To see what it felt to be in combat. To feel what it meant to be a man. To know what it took to be a hero.

"Did you intend to enlist without my permission?" Renton said, eyeing him.

"Yes, I did." Timmy wrote his signature on the enlistment sheet, taking the first step into the military.

This was the last thing Renton wanted. Ever since he met Timmy when he was 11, he had loved him like a son. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't let anything happen to him. Now he was risking his life. If Renton expected anything of Timmy, it was not becoming what he was. He had been forced to do this, forced to command when he was never ready, forced to kill again. He would rather stay in the sanctity of his home than here, fighting. Timmy had been made flag bearer, although the commander of the militia, Andrew Harrison, had promised Renton to give him a job along the lines of a clerk or a messenger. Inside the headquarters, Renton was lamenting, venting his frustrations to his wife…

"I was not counting on this at all."

"Don't forget, Renton: he's a full-fledged member. He can join the militia if he wants to." Renton turned to her and looked in her innocent grey eyes, the same eyes he had fallen in love with.

"He is too young. He's only 14."

"You're a little young to be a commander at 19."

"That's different Eureka. I'm only doing this because no one else chooses to step up. But Timmy…he's just a child. I can't take that fact sitting down."

"For God's Sake, Renton, he's 14! He's old enough to make his own decisions."

"It's not that, Eureka. Age isn't the issue."

"What is?" Renton sighed and turned away from her, his face in his hands. Now came the moment for the words.

"He's like my son." Eureka's eyes widened.

"Renton?"

"You heard me, Eureka. He's like my son. I don't want my son to die. Can you blame me for feeling that way, Eureka?"

"I don't blame you, Renton, but you're not his father." Renton turned to her in shock. She had never spoken to him so strongly before. So commandingly. She was taking the reins now, and laying down the rules for him. It was time for him to learn a lesson. "You're not his father, Renton. You have to respect his decision. He's not a little boy anymore."

"But as long as he's in GekkoState, he will follow my orders."

"As far as orders go, the only commander he has now is Commander Harrison." Renton turned away again, knowing he was losing this argument. "You're not his father, and you're not his commanding officer."

»»»»»

**Eastern outskirts**

It was very early in the morning, the fog low on the ground. It was the perfect environment for a surprise attack. The sky was overcast, covered with clouds. The strategy for the attack was settled. Holland's Russian Brigade, Spangenberg's militia (now called the "German Legion") and Stabowski's Polish regiment would frontally attack the Reds while Harrison's militia, Dog, Easy and Fox Companies would flank the enemy, attacking from the forest.

Renton was looking over in the forest to make sure everything was in order and to try and find Timmy. If Timmy was going into combat, so be it, but he would do everything in his power to make sure he would survive. He would tell him how to survive in combat, how to protect one's self from enemy fire.

"Excuse me," he asked a soldier from Harrison's militia, "do you know where Baker Company is?"

"They're one block over." The soldier pointed to the right. Renton thanked the soldier and walked over. He soon found Timmy, dressed in the militia's uniform, dating to World War One. He even had a World War One tin helmet. He cut a very dashing figure for a 14-year-old.

"Mr. Thurston!" Timmy ran up and hugged the man who was his hero. Renton laughed, an elderly tone in his voice.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Thurston. Let me introduce you to my friend Martin." Renton looked to find a tall brown-haired boy, about 15, wearing the same uniform, smiling.

"Nice to meet you, Martin."

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Thurston," he said in a gruff voice. The three sat down and Renton took the opportunity to give them some veteran's advice. "You need to take the opportunity to sit down and rest up before you march. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

What followed was a long-winded and detailed talk about how a veteran in the army survives life on campaign. Detailed advice of how to live in the army like a seasoned veteran: Wash feet in the evening after a long march; not in the morning. Carry only what is necessary into battle; don't take the whole knapsack with you. Travel light. Always. Watch your back and your corner in battle. When you see everyone around you shooting, shoot in the same direction. Hold the rifle steady. Perhaps most importantly, don't panic. The talk, too long and too rambling to be recorded soon came down to Renton noticing the bright gold breastplate on the strap of Timmy's ammunition pouch. It sat on Timmy's sternum, marking his heart. The breastplate was for decorative purposes, as Renton knew; back in France, the men in Jacques' resistance wore breastplates. Enemy combatants would aim for the breastplates, killing the wearer in an instant.

"One of the things you need to do is take that breastplate off. The Reds will aim right for that…"Renton placed his finger on the breastplate. "They'll aim right for the center. You got to take that off."

"I'll take it off before we go out," Timmy said decidedly. Renton wanted to make sure he would do it. He placed his hand on Timmy's shoulder and pointed again to the breastplate.

"Listen to me: back in France, I saw men die getting a bullet through breastplates just like that. You have to take that off." Martin looked at his watch and turned to Timmy.

"Timmy, we better get going. Sergeant Willis will kill us if we're late for inspection." Timmy groaned and turned to Renton.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Thurston. I have to go."

"It's all right, Timmy. Remember what we talked about, all right?"

"All right." They got up and embraced each other like father and son.

"Good luck, Timmy. Be careful."

"I will. I promise."

Renton started to go when he turned to them one last time and said, pointing at the breastplates they wore, "Don't forget to take that off!"

"Right after the inspection."

"All right."

"Right after inspection."

»»»»»

It was dawn. The fog had not cleared. Clouds hung in the sky like the haze over a city. Behind the forest, the men of Harrison's force of 500 men, mostly young boys, waited for the order to advance. They stood in a long column of fours, rifles at the "order arms" position. All waited, their minds tense, each man nervous, quivering, and wondering what will happen to them once they got to the front lines. At the head of the column, little Timmy Garnett carried a flag, the Stars and Stripes, the symbol of the nation he so loved. Behind him stood his new-found friend Martin, following the advice of Renton. He took his breastplate off, knowing he would not need it. He was taking only what was absolutely necessary into combat, leaving all the rest at the camp, knowing he could return to get them afterwards. Soon the men heard Harrison himself shout out orders.

"Shoulder…arms!"

The soldiers brought the rifles to their sides, their hands holding them under the trigger guard. Then a drum struck up and the whole column began to march in step along a small road through the woods. The drum blared in everyone's ears and one could not hear much with all the shouts and yells from the officers.

Renton, touring the lines again with Moondoggie, Matthieu and Donald, looked out on the column of marching soldiers. Then Moondoggie pointed to flag bearer, adjusting his glasses to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

"Hey Renton isn't that Timmy?" Renton looked and sure enough he saw him, carrying the Stars and Stripes. He looked as raw and green as when he first saw him in uniform. He had his knapsack, with everything in it. It must weigh 50 or 60 pounds on his back, he thought. And as the column marched on, he saw a glint off Timmy's chest. The bull's-eye that sat right on him. The breastplate.

"Timmy! Timmy, take your breastplate off!" Timmy turned to see Renton and his old gang with him looking on in his direction. Timmy beamed in an instant.

"Hi, Mr. Thurston!" Renton's eyes widened in shock and incredulity. How could this boy not remember!

"Timmy! Take your breastplate off!" Timmy raised an eyebrow in confusion. He couldn't hear what he was saying.

"What?"

"Take that breastplate off!"

"What did you say?"

"Timmy! Please! Take it off!"

"I can't hear you!" He started to break off and head to Renton but a sergeant quickly pulled him back.

"Get back in the ranks soldier!" the sergeant ordered gruffly.

"Sarge, what did he say! It's Mr. Thurston!" Renton tried to run to him and tell him to take it off, but Moondoggie and the others held him back, trying to stop him. All the while Renton yelled as best he could over the noise and shouts the thing that could mean the difference between life and death.

"TAKE THAT BREASTPLATE OFF!" Then came the voice of Harrison.

"Right shoulder shift…arms!" The soldiers brought the rifles up, carrying them on their shoulders. Timmy still couldn't hear him as the column marched past him.

"What did you say, Mr. Thurston? What?"

"TAKE YOUR BREASTPLATE OFF! FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Renton tried to break through to him, but Moondoggie and the others held him back, keeping him from running to him.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT YOUR BREASTPLATE!"

»»»»»

The attack on the front had begun, and Harrison, along with the commanders of Dog Easy and Fox companies were waiting to go in. Timmy stood firm looking out on the fields beyond the forest. The Reds were dug in foxholes and trenches on the high ground, facing to the right, where Holland, Spangenberg and Stabowski had begun their attack. They would have to make a quick fast attack if they were to break through. Timmy was ready though. Ready to prove himself, and take a first step in the footsteps of Renton Thurston. Then Harrison shouted out in a deep voice.

"Down knapsacks!" The knapsacks were taken off and left in rows a few feet behind them. They would not need the knapsacks for this fight. "Fix bayonets!" The men pulled out the bayonets from their holsters and quickly set them on the ends of their rifles. The clicks of bayonets being latched on filled Timmy's ears. He was merely a flag bearer. No weapon, but still an honorable position. The rifles were brought to the sides of the soldiers, aiming the bayonets at the foxholes in the distance. The moment was coming soon. They had to be ready.

FWEEET! FWEEET!

The men of Harrison's battalion rose up and charged, without a battle cry, without a yell, just silence and the glint of their bayonets. One Red Shirt, a red haired youth not 16 years old, turned and looked to see 7 companies of soldiers coming straight at him. He sat there wide-eyed in surprise. He then called out to his captain to witness this sight so maybe they could stop it.

"Comrade Captain!"

Before he could say anything more, Harrison's militia unleashed a tremendous volley upon the end of the line, killing two whole platoons if not more in an instant. In order to counter this flanking move, the more than three companies of Red Shirts, 175 men each, sidestepped to their right, refusing the line and stopping Harrison's advance. The Reds, on high ground, poured volley after volley into the militia, cutting swaths and creating holes in the lines. The men in Harrison's militia were mostly green and inexperienced, with no preliminary training. They were never prepared for this. Timmy just stood there waving the flag, looking on the sight of combat and hearing the shouts and yells from the others around him.

"Keep up your fire! Keep up your fire!"

"No, no, no, son. Just reload and shoot. That's all you have to worry about."

"We can't sit here all day! We'll be slaughtered!" Martin and Timmy yelled to a sergeant.  
Timmy, with a courage he hadn't known until then, Timmy, with a courage greater than that of most men, stepped forward a few paces, waved the flag and said,

"We'll never give up! No matter hard the struggle!" He turned the tired weary men of the militia and spoke, in a voice much like Renton's in its commanding nature, "What would Mr. Thurston if he saw all of us now! He'd tell us to keep moving, that's what! We're not gonna let a bunch of commies stop us! We're takin' those heights!"

With one deafening yell, the militia followed the little flag bearer and followed him headlong into the Red line, with no orders from Harrison or any officer for that matter. The sight of the militiamen charging them was enough to scare the Reds into running away, without any hand-to-hand combat. The enemy's left flank had broken, and now the Reds were trying desperately to make a stand, as GekkoState Alliance troops began to swarm and overwhelm them, pushing ever closer to the heights. Timmy was streaming through the field leading the militia by his banner. Soon they heard a noise and the militia stopped to reform. The noise was coming from over the heights, where the Oratorio mortar batteries and the heavy artillery pieces were shelling the rebels, blowing holes in their lines. Then the men heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching this position and saw them come on, the rising morning sun behind them casting them as shadows from the night…

The black-shirted troops of the SOF.

Armed with bayoneted Mosin-Nagant rifles and rapid-fire PPSh-41 submachine guns, the SOF troopers came charging down the heights, coming straight at the oncoming rebels. Harrison gave the orders.

"Fire!"

The militia opened up and killed the first line SOF troopers in an instant with flashes of blood and a sound of "zzzip" as a bullet went through their bodies and out the other side. The SOF troopers stopped and leveled their rifles, readying themselves to fire a reciprocal volley. Timmy knew they couldn't stay here.

"COME ON!"

The militia charged with a loud battle cry. For God! For country! For the Republic! The SOF troopers raised their rifles to their shoulders, aiming into the oncoming rebels. One SOF trooper, a brown-haired man about 21 years of age, aimed his Mosin-Nagant at the flag bearer, a perfect target coming straight at him. He lined up his sights with the bright gold breastplate that sat on his sternum, marking his heart. Then the officer gave the order.

"OGON PRYYN!"

The SOF troopers opened up.

Timmy, on the verge of colliding with the Reds, knowing he was setting an example for others to follow, suddenly felt something pierce his chest and zip through his heart and exit out the other side of his body. His legs weakened, giving way under the weight of his body which had suddenly become heavy. He felt no pain, but he felt peace and serenity. He fell to his knees, tossing the flag into the air and watching as the men ran into the SOF troopers, trying their best to fight off this attack. He smiled weakly, falling on his back and looking into the vast sky above. The clouds were moving away and the Sun shone through on the little boy who had sacrificed everything for his country, for his democracy, for his God. How was it he had never seen the sky? So lofty, so infinite. How happy he was to have found peace at last. All was vanity and delusion, except that sky. Everything began to fade into black, his grip of life weakening. With a final sigh of relief, comfortable in the knowledge he had done what was right in his life, closed his eyes and said,

"I hope I made you proud, Mr. Thurston."

Martin had taken the flag, ignoring the death of his young new-found friend. The attack must go on, with or without him. He yelled to the militia trying to encourage them forward.

"Come on, boys! They're breakin'! One more push and the battle is won!" An SOF trooper soon came face to face with him, but Martin quickly butted him in the head with his flagstaff and pushed him aside. He waved the flag and the rest of the militia charged forward, pushing the SOF back inch by inch, yard by yard. The normally hard-trained and unflinching SOF troops panicked and ran, not wanting any more of this. The GekkoStaters, knowing victory was in their grasp, charged on ahead, swarming the heights and pushed the remaining Red Shirts off. Martin stood on the highest part of the heights waving the flag in defiance at the retreating Reds, as the GekkoStaters cheered, reveling in their victory.

Was it victory?

From the command post a not half a mile away, Colonel Dewey Novakov watched in seething anger as the rebels waved their flags in triumph. He turned to the battered weary Boris Debretskoy, recently promoted Major and long-time commander of the SOF.

"Is this what the SOF has come to!"

"Nyet, Comrade Commissar. There were too many of them and—"

"Numbers don't win battles, Comrade Major Debretskoy. I want you to reform your men and hit them again! Don't stop attacking until I give you the order! Is that clear!"

"Da, Comrade Commissar."

"Then get out there soldier! NOW!" Debretskoy ran out and tried to rally what was left of his shattered SOF. Dewey, losing not just the battle but his mind as this went on minute by minute, called out for another officer.

"COMRADE DOLGORUKHOV!" Pavel Dolgorukhov, the eldest of the Colonel's chief lieutenants and commander of the assault infantry battalion, ran to him and saluted.

"Da, Comrade Commissar?"

"Major Dolgorukhov, get you battalion assembled and order them to take the heights back! We must NOT let the rebels have the heights! Get out there and stop them!"

"Da, Comrade Commissar!" Dolgorukhov quickly ran out the CP to the staging area to call upon Dewey's last reserves. He was losing this battle and he knew it.

"How could it have come to this? To be defeated! By an army of rabble, led by a little upstart!" He looked through his binoculars to see the SOF and Dolgorukhov's assault infantry advance on the rebels sitting on the heights.

"This must not fail. I did not volunteer for this mission to come back empty handed!"

The Reds attacked, the mortars and artillery concentrating on the heights, trying to force the rebels off the high ground. They would not budge however. They had the heights and planned to defend them. As the SOF troopers and assault infantry ran up the slope the rebels poured a murderous fire, killing the whole first line of the advancing Reds. Martin wigwagged the flag to signal the commander back at the townhouse that the heights were captured and forces are holding. Soon mortar shells began to fall all around him and he tried to found a way down. Just as he was starting down the slope to get out of the fire, a shell landed near him and cast him into the air. He landed flat on his back, cracking his spine. He looked up into the same sky Timmy had seen, seeing the Sun shining down on him, a great bright light falling upon him. Great God above, he thought. How was it you created such a beautiful sky? How did you create such a beautiful limitless sky? So lofty, so vast. All is pride and narcissism and illusion except that beautiful vast infinite sky.

"I'm coming, Timmy. I'm coming."

Another picked up the flag in Martin's stead and waved the bright red white and blue banner as the assault was quickly beaten back. It was hopeless for the Reds to try and take it back; they were outnumbered and their enemy was on high ground. Numbers may not win battles, but they sure do help.

The Reds, exhausted, battered, and weary, fell back to the CP as the Colonel Novakov watched in agony, hearing the victorious cheers of the GekkoStaters. He turned away and spoke to the Ageha sisters the chief gatherers of intelligence. He sighed dejectedly.

"Order the retreat." The five Ageha sisters switched on the radio communicators and dolefully spoke:

"To all personnel: Retreat."

»»»»»

The battle had ended in another GekkoState Alliance victory, and the United Bolshevik Force retreated eastward to the towns of Porbayevsk and Ciudades Del Cielo. The GekkoState Army had suffered 750 casualties. Harrison's militia was almost wiped out, reduced to two companies of 250 men. The United Bolshevik Force had taken 900 casualties, severely cutting at Dewey's ability to wage aggressive war. The war was becoming more and more costly for everyone, especially the commander of GekkoState.

That night, under a full moon and a great fog, Renton quietly walked the lines to find what had been done for Timmy and Martin. On the summit of the heights they had captured today, he found two crosses side by side in the ground. Two World War One tin helmets were placed on top of the crosses. Renton knelt and crossed himself with the necklace Donald gave him for Christmas, looking upon what was inscribed upon the crosses. First to little Timmy's cross…

**TIMOTHY GARNETT**

**January 12****th****, 1932—February 2****nd****, 1946**

**Another Mr. Thurston strived within him**

Then to Timmy's friend Martin…

**MARTIN DONOVAN**

**January 16****th****, 1931—February 2****nd****, 1946**

**Uncommon Courage**

Renton broke down in tears, not being able to bear the sight of seeing the grave of Timmy Garnett. Little Timmy, the boy who looked to Renton always, the boy who hoped to be like Renton, the boy who was the closest thing Renton had to a son. The little boy he loved since they first met was gone, now with God's Army.

"I know it's hard, Renton."

He turned and found his three-months-pregnant wife Eureka, dressed in her usual blue and white dress. She knelt down next to him and looked to their "son's" grave. Renton's heart was breaking minute by minute and buried his head in Eureka's lap, crying softly. Eureka gently stroked his hair and rocked back and forth trying to calm him and herself, she herself being close to breaking.

"He was like my son," Renton said quietly. "I loved him so much, Eureka. He could have been our son, if things had been different."

"The same thought occurred to me." Renton turned away from the grave, not being able to bear it.

"What am I going to do? What on earth am I going to do now?"

"Nothing will ever replace him, Renton."

"That's what makes it so hard for me. Eureka, I don't think I'll ever know another boy like him. He's one of a kind."

"I think what happened to him is more reason for us to continue this and end it." Renton looked up in his wife's innocent grey eyes, seeing in her an epiphany. "We can't let this get to us, Renton. If we do…they win." Renton slowly stood up and quickly took his wife in his arms, crying softly once more, letting all the sadness flow out.

"I love you so much, Eureka. I don't what I'd do without you. I'd go out of my mind for you."

"I love you too, Renton. We won't let this get us down. Not now."

"Don't talk about that anymore please," he said with agonizing desperation in his voice. He was at the end of his rope over this. Nothing would ever take Timmy's place, but he would live on in their hearts. The little Renton incarnate. The boy who wanted so much to be like Renton. The little boy who was so much like Renton himself: vibrant, risk-taking, and brave.

A little ways away, a 19-year-old grey haired goateed man leaned on a tree next to his 18-year-old dark-haired fiancée, looking on at the couple mourning at the graves.

"In all my years of knowing him," the man said, "I don't think I've ever seen him so sad. Not ever."

"Losing your son can really do a lot to someone."

"But Timmy wasn't his son."

"And that is exactly what makes it so hard for him."

* * *

A/N: Timmy's gone. Really sad, isn't it? I cried as I wrote this. For the record, Timmy was one of the three characters that was going to die in this part of the series, which means two more character deaths are left. I don't know what else to say…

Here's a preview of the next chapter:

_In late February, the Resistance is camped around the small villages near the massacred city and the city of the Poles. The boy is deep in depression since the child's death, and all the members of the Resistance try to cheer him up once more, fearing for the health of their leader…_

**Next Time:****Off-Duty**


	24. Chapter 24: Off Duty

**Chapter Twenty-four: Off-Duty**

**February 16****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere west of Ciudades del Cielo, California**

The United Bolshevik Force had retreated eastward, ending the long period of winter quarters around Cashville. The crusaders, led by their pious and brave commander, followed the communists in pursuit, following them to the outskirts of two cities: Ciudades Del Cielo, the massacred city the SOF had captured and was still holding, and Porbayevsk, a town of mostly Polish immigrants, occupied by the Joy Division. However Dewey, rendered impotent and incapable of attacking until he received help, consolidated his position in the cities he occupied and the surrounding villages to the north and south. He would not be able to attack unless he received reinforcements. In the meantime, GekkoState took camp around the villages to the west of Del Cielo and Porbayevsk.

When it came to the matters of losing someone close to him, Renton was introverted and somewhat antisocial. He would not speak to anyone; he would not come into contact with anyone. Not even his wife. Talho was right: losing your son can really do a lot to someone. It's even harder when the person wasn't your son. In a small townhouse that made the new headquarters, Holland and Talho were lamenting, trying to figure out what to do.

"He's been moping for two weeks now," Holland lamented, resting his head on the wall next to his commander's quarters.

"Why shouldn't he be moping for losing someone dear to him?"

"We can't afford to lament now. Not when we need him more than ever. If we win another battle, victory in the war is in our grasp."

"Go and seek your victory, but I doubt you will find it the way he is now. We will not move until he is deemed fit to command again." Holland laughed incredulously.

"Since when did you take over and give orders?"

"Since now. Saving the Republic can wait for the time being. The enemy won't make any moves in the condition they are in, and Renton really needs some time to recuperate." Holland sighed as Renton exited from his quarters.

"Good morning, Commander Thurston," the two said in unison.

"Good morning," he mumbled under his breath.

"How is the Commander this morning?" Talho asked kindly. Renton groaned as he reached for his canteen and drank from it.

"I've been better."

"I had a feeling. We all think you've been stressed lately."

"You think?" Renton was obviously not in the best of moods today. Talho did her best not to fire him up.

"We know. And we all think you need a break." Holland then spoke up.

"Well actually—" Before he got out anything else, Talho nudged him hard in the side. "Yes we all agree."

"After what's happened, you really need it. We know so."

"We all lost many good men. All of us need a break. There will not be any operations today. We need a break. Is that understood?"

"Da, Komandir."

»»»»»

Renton and his old gang (Matthieu, Moondoggie and Donald) were going around town trying to find something to do. Their respective female companions were not with them; they were attending to other businesses. Soon they heard a sound coming from the village square. They rushed in that direction and soon found a crowd of people gathered around a stage, all looking up to the people on the stage. On the stage was a man dressed in a trench coat and grey knickerbockers looking over a line of soldiers. Following him was a woman wearing a white and blue dress.

"Fall out!" the man in the trench coat ordered. The group of soldiers began to move out of formation. "Fall in!" The soldiers quickly got back into formation. "You have to be quicker than that if you want to fight the Reds! Fall out!" the soldiers began to fall out again. "Fall in!" the soldier reassumed formation much faster this time. "Dismissed!" The man then turned to the woman in the blue and white dress.

"Well," the man said, "I've done all I can for them. The rest is in God's hands now."

"Y'know, Renton," the woman said walking over to "Renton", "I think, what with the way you've trained us and taught us and fought with us, you could be a great general."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. What with war between America and Russia imminent, I think we could use a good general like you."

"Well, my father always did encourage me to go into the military." The actor stepped forward and seemingly contemplated the idea. "Let me see…General Renton Thurston. Y'know that doesn't sound bad at all! General Thurston…"

A small orchestra struck up a familiar patter song from a comic opera the gang had seen a long time ago. The band of friends smiled, knowing now what this was: a comic parody of their little resistance, and all members. The actor then cleared his throat and sang a song which brought a wide smile to Renton's face…

_I am the very model of a Rebel Army General_

_I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_I know the Presidents, and I can quote the fights historical_

_From Lexington to Normandy, in order categorical_

_I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical_

_I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical_

_About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news…_

The actor scratched his head trying to find a rhyme. "Oh, a lot o' news, a lot o' news…" He snapped his fingers to the laugher of all, having something.

_With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse_

A chorus dressed as GekkoStaters came out and began to sing the chorus.

_Chorus: With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse_

_With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse_

_With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotepotenuse_

The audience laughed as the actor continued.

_I'm very good at integral and differential calculus; _

_I know the scientific names of beings animalculous: _

_In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, _

_I am the very model of a Rebel Army general! _

_Chorus: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_He is the very model of a Rebel Army General!_

_Actor: I know much mythic history, King Arthur's and Sir Caradoc's_

_I answer hard acrostics, I've a pretty taste for paradox_

_I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of Heliogabalus_

_In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous_

_I can tell undoubted Raphaels from Gerard Dows and Zoffanies_

_I know the croaking chorus from the Frogs of Aristophanes_

_Then I can hum a fugue of which I've heard the music's din afore…_

The actor then paced, scrounging for a rhyme. "Din afore…din afore…Aha, I've got it!"

_And whistle all the airs__ that those infernal Reds annoy us for!_

Another chorus of Red Shirts came dancing on stage, to the laughter of everyone.

_Chorus: And whistle all the airs that those infernal Reds annoy us for_

_And whistle all the airs that those infernal Reds annoy us for_

_And whistle all the airs that those infernal Reds annoy us annoy us for_

_Actor: Then I can write a washing bill in Babylonic cuneiform_

_And tell you ev'ry detail of George Washington's uniform_

_In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_I am the very model of a Rebel Army General!_

_Chorus: In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_He is the very model of a Rebel Army General!_

The tempo of the music slowed and the actor sang loudly, to the snickering and giggling of Renton and his friends.

_In fact, when I know what is meant by "mamelon" and "ravelin"_

_When I can tell at sight a Springfield rifle from a javelin_

_When such affairs as sorties and surprises I'm more wary at_

_And when I know precisely what is meant by "commissariat"_

_When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern gunnery_

_When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery_

_In short, when I've a smattering of military strategy…_

"Oh strategy! Strategy, lategy, pategy, dategy…" Renton smirked and called out…

_You'll say a better Rebel General had never sat a gee!_

The actors and actresses on stage looked to see who had called out and found it was the very commander they were parodying. They smiled in delight and continued on,

_Chorus: You'll say a better Rebel General had never sat a gee_

_You'll say a better Rebel General had never sat a gee_

_You'll say a better Rebel General had never sat a sat a gee_

The actor resumed his fast tempo singing, eyeing and smiling at Renton and his little band of friends.

_For my military knowledge, though I'm bold and adventury_

_Is only limited to the 19__th__ and 20__th__ centuries…_

The whole host of actors and actresses then gestured to Renton to end the stanza, which he did gladly.

_But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_I am the very model of a Rebel Army General!_

_Chorus: But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_He is the very model of a Rebel Army General!_

The orchestra finished off the song and the whole crowd applauded. The actors and actresses bowed and then gestured to Renton and his little band of friends. The audience turned and applauded their unexpected yet honored guest. Renton, stunned and moved by this, took a slight bow, and motioned for Doggie Mattthieu and Donald to do the same. They followed suit and left, waving goodbye to the crowd and the men and women on stage. This was enough to lift the spirits of that 19-year-old who had sacrificed everything to protect all that was dear to him. It was enough to pick him up a little more and encourage him forward.

»»»»»

Talho was getting extremely bored with nothing to do, and decided to go shopping for some things Holland had decided not to get. GekkoState, as everyone who was a member knew, had very little money other than what was provided to them by the militias and grants from the towns they passed through and occupied. Renton, being a pragmatist when it came to money, usually scrimped and saved what money was made and used it to pay for logistics and ammunition. It was tough to feed and equip an army of almost 5,000. But Talho had found a bracelet she needed for a staff photo coming up for RayOut.

She headed out the front door of the small townhouse, dressed in her white and violet outfit.

"Where are you going?" asked the voice of the commander as she turned the knob.

"Out. John Henry's reissued their silver bracelet."

"Access denied," Renton said flatly. Talho turned to him in a rage.

"Oh, come on, commander! Have a heart! We got a little grant from the village for being here didn't we?! I'm going to need it for the staff photo we're doing for RayOut!"

"The supplies and ammunition are going to take a big chunk of the money. I'll consider it next time we get a grant."

"But it's a limited edition! I want the serial number to be one digit!"

"What are you talking about? The logistical support for the army is our top priority."

"You're traaaaaaaped!" said his wife's voice from behind him in a singsong way. "If you were a little tougher you could stop her, but you're not so you're just going to have to—"

"OKAY! FINE! PERMISSION GRANTED!" Talho smiled.

"Jeez, why'd Eureka have to get involved?" he grumbled to himself. Talho opened the door and motioned to the married duo to follow her.

"C'mon Renton, let's go." Renton's eyes widened and groaned helplessly.

"What?! ME?!? Why me?!!"

"Who's going to hold all the stuff I get if you don't come with me?" Talho exited and Renton sighed dejectedly, going to a desk of drawers on the side of the front hall, putting on a pair of gloves since it was chilly outside. Eureka giggled as she heard him grumbling again.

"Shit it's always something…goddammit…"

They followed Talho outside and quickly hailed a taxi.

"Where to?" the cabby asked, smiling wide. Talho pointed down the road.

"Can you get us to Park Street?"

"Park Street? Sure thing! Hop in!" Talho turned to the Thurstons and ordered them to follow her.

"All right you two. Get in the cab."

"Yes, ma'am." They filed into the cab which quickly sped away, and Renton stuck in the middle of the seat, sandwiched in-between Eureka and Talho.

"Dammit, I hate being in the middle," Renton grumbled.

"C'mon! Move over a little more!" Talho ordered.

"I'm over as far as I can go!"

"I think you just want to press yourself up against me. You are so perverted."

"I'M MARRIED, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

"So are you saying I'm not attractive?!" Renton groaned dejectedly as Eureka laughed quietly.

"Christ, I can't win today. Driver, how close are we to Park Street?"

"Just a few hundred yards away. Hang in there, kid. We'll get you there."

The cab dropped them off at Park Street and Renton was the first to get out of the hot insulated cab, panting, down on his knees.

"Jeez…that cab needs AC." Talho and Eureka grabbed Renton by the trench coat collar and dragged him down the street to a clothes shop.

"Come on, baggage carrier."

"SOMEBODY HELP ME! THIS IS WHY SHOPPING IS EVIL!" No one could hear him, and in fact most were amused to see the commander dragged by his wife and the fiancée of his closest subordinate. Eureka and Renton went to look for suits while Talho went into the shoe department.

Eureka quickly found a black tuxedo for Renton to try out.

"I hate fancy suits," he grumbled as he went into a dressing room. A few minutes later he pulled back the curtains and looked at Eureka, brow furrowed. He was wearing a black tuxedo with a white shirt and a black bowtie. "This sucks! I look like a magician!"

"You look really good," Eureka said smiling.

"Nyet! I look like a magician!"

"You look more like a waiter at a restaurant that has no child labor laws." Renton mumbled something she couldn't catch. "What did you say?"

"This is the best we can get. Pack it up and tell Talho we're ready to move. I need to get my old outfit on."

"Okay, Renton."

"Between you me and the curtains, I prefer my trench coat any day anytime."

"You look handsome always, whatever you wear." Eureka lightly kissed him as Renton unbuttoned the tuxedo coat. He quickly took off the uncomfortable outfit and put it in the shopping bag. He started to reach for his trousers when Talho unexpectedly pulled back the curtains.

"What's taking you so long?" Renton jumped, taken by surprise.

"ACK!" Talho laughed.

"Sorry." Renton frowned at her.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock?!"

"It's a curtain, Commander."

"Well…why don't you…take a picture? It'll last longer." Talho quickly pulled out a portable camera and snapped a photo of the commander in nothing but his boxer shorts. "I DIDN'T MEAN ACTUALLY TAKE A PICTURE!" Renton started to chase her out of the store in an attempt to get the picture back, Talho laughing her head off and Eureka triyng to catch up to her husband.

They walked down the street, Renton trying his best to carry four bags.

"Talho, if it isn't too much to ask, could you please consider letting me off the hook?"

"You won't get off that easy, Renton," Eureka said slyly.

"I thought you were on my side!"

"Why should I take your side?"

"Because you love me!"

"I do love you, dear, but that won't hold up in court!"

"Well, I'm on my side, and I really don't want to take part in something we have no money for."

"Don't you remember the extra grant we got from Cashville for selecting it as winter quarters?"

"No. I'm going to erase the word GekkoState from those extra checks." Eureka smiled at him.

"Renton, you're being childish."

"I'm only doing this because Talho forced me into a corner." Thankfully Talho wasn't paying any attention to them. She quickly turned to a window and saw the bracelet she wanted.

"John Henry's reissued silver!"

"I told you Talho: we can't get it," Renton said sternly.

"I'm just looking!" Renton groaned as he leaned on the building wall.

"Really so stupid. All this over a stupid piece of gaudy jewelry!"

"Is that the reason the only piece of jewelry you ever gave me was that ring when you proposed to me?" Eureka asked innocently.

"Yes. Besides…you're beautiful enough already." The two shared a small kiss when Talho came out in a rage.

"Let's go to the bar down the road!"

"I don't drink, Talho. You've been in GekkoState long enough to know that."

"How is it you don't drink when Holland does?"

"My brother-in-law can do whatever he wishes. I don't interfere with people's personal habits, as long as they don't force them on me."

"You're starting to bore me now."

"Then let me end your suffering. Good day to the both of you!" He turned his back on Eureka and Talho and started to go.

"Where are you going, Renton?" Eureka asked, upset.

"I'm going back to headquarters."

"Please come with us, Renton. I'd like it if you were with me." Renton eyed her suspiciously.

"Are you in on something I'm not?"

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about!" she said sarcastically, smiling.

"Don't lie to me."

"Honest, Renton. I have nothing to hide from you." Renton took a step to her and looked into her grey eyes.

"All right. You better be right, though."

Talho had one more joker card to play. They went to a bar and Talho had Eureka stay quiet as Talho teased Renton more and more. She was over the drinking age and had already had three glasses of vodka. She was flushed in the face and slurring her speech.

"You mean to (hic!) tell me you can't even move two iceboxes without help? What the (hic!) is wrong with you?"

"Don't you think you've had enough, Talho?" Renton said sternly. Talho ignored him and drank another glass of vodka. "Are you having a lot of fun mocking me?"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa. (Hic!) I'm-I-I-I'm n-n-n-not mocking y-y-you. Okay? I-I-I-I-I am just making fun of you!"

"All right then. Are you enjoying making fun of me?" Talho banged her glass on the table.

"No. I don't enjoy it at all! But (hic!) it is very amusing." Renton's eye twitched to the giggling laughter of Eureka.

"So you think it's amusing…making fun of someone like me?!"

"It'ssss got nothing to do with you." Renton raised an eyebrow as Talho, thoroughly drunk, leaned in, smiling. "Commander Th-th-th-Thurston (hic!), do me a favor…kiss me." Renton's eyes widened as Talho pinched his lips with two fingers. In an instant Renton pushed her hand away.

"That's the vodka talking." Talho slumped on her side of the booth and laughed again, taking a drink from her vodka. "I swear to God, this is so stupid." He turned to Eureka, close to cracking up. "Are you in on something I'm not?! Are you just going to sit back, not say anything and allow this to happen?!?" Eureka bust out laughing uncontrollably. "Oh sure! Laugh it up! Everything's one big joke to you two, isn't it?"

"YES!" the two said in unison through their laughing. Renton sighed.

"This is why I don't talk much."

»»»»»

Despite Renton's hatred for drinking, Holland had decided to do something to change this annoying principle. He had secretly switched the water in his canteen with beer. Vodka would be too strong for him and he would quickly find out it was vodka. Renton quickly emerged from his quarters, looking for his canteen which Holland had moved.

"General, have you seen my canteen?"

"It's over on your desk." Renton looked to his desk and saw it was there.

"How did it get all the way over there?" Holland smirked. _Oh, wouldn't you like to know?_ He thought.

"I really don't know." Renton took a drink from his canteen and noticed it tasted different. Somewhat bitter, but not unpleasantly so. He turned to his trusted subordinate.

"Did you switch the water?"

"No, Commander," he lied. "I haven't touched it all day."

"Did you see anyone switch the water?"

"No, Commander. Why? Something wrong?"

"Just tastes different. Maybe one of the quartermasters put mineral water in by mistake."

"That's probably it. Should I tell the quartermaster to switch the water back?" Renton raised his and shook his head.

"No, no, no. It's alright. Water's water. No harm, no foul. You know what I mean?"

"Yes, Commander."

Renton walked out to the general living area, taking another drink from the canteen. When he was out of sight and out of earshot, Holland began laughing.

"He fell for it! I can't believe it! He actually fell for it!"

Renton, being very pious and virtuous, never had a single drop of alcohol touch his lips except taking the wine at communion. Thus, he had a very low tolerance rate, and even one glass of liquor was enough to leave him intoxicated.

A few hours and a few beer-filled canteens later, Renton had a red nose, flushed face and a slurred voice. He was joking around, drunkenly carousing to the laughter of those in the room. Moondoggie and Gidget were there along with Matthieu and his 17-year-old female companion Hilda Rostonova. Holland, who had the others of his little joke was there with Talho, recovered from her intoxicated state at the bar earlier that day. Dominic and Anemone were there too, laughing at seeing their friend, a usually overly moral and righteous man, unknowingly breaking his principle of lifelong sobriety.

"Y-y-y-y-you want me to (hic!) do another one?" he said indistinctly.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" they all said together laughing. Renton laughed.

"Okay." He took a large gulp from his canteen and started to sing his own version of the song he had heard earlier that day. "Oh…"

_I am the very model of a Rebel Army General_

_I've information military vegetable, animal, and mineral_

_I know the Czars of Russia, and I quote the fights historical_

_From Kulikovo to Stalingrad, in order categorical_

_I wave around a saber like it's a harmless bamboo stick _

_I wish I could have seen Zhukov executing Order 46_

_I'm very well acquainted too, with that Commissar Colonel Dewey…_

All hissed and booed (Renton included) at the name of that hated man. Renton hiccupped again and then had an idea for a rhyme.

_And I wouldn't have these hiccups had I not been drinking this water, phooey! _

Everyone laughed all of them knowing something he didn't and Renton didn't care to know.

"Holland, my friend, see to it that this (hic!) water is put in the canteens for everybody!" All cheered at the possibility of getting a shot of Dutch courage from Renton's "water."

"I shall see what I can do."

At that moment, Eureka walked in and greeted Renton.

"Hello, darling."

"Hiya, honey! (Hic!)" Eureka raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Are you feeling alright? You don't look so good." Renton mumbled something indistinctly.

"He's on his first bender!" Matthieu quipped out laughing. Renton turned his head on Matthieu, glaring at him.

"What's a bender, Renton?" Eureka asked.

"It's something you (hic!) don't need to know."

"How'd you get the hiccups?"

"I (hic!) think I drank too much of this (hic!) mineral water." Eureka took the canteen and drank it, getting an "Oooo!" from the crowd except Holland, who knew that his equally virtuous sister would soon find out his scheme.

"This is alcohol, Renton!" Renton's bloodshot eyes widened.

"W-(hic!)-WHAT?!"

"Someone switched the water in your canteen for beer!" Renton frowned and turned on the others who were now laughing uncontrollably.

"Okay. W-w-w-w-which-which-which one of you jjjjj-jokers switched the (hic!) water?" He looked to Dominic, sitting on the end of the sofa.

"Was it (hic!) you, Dom?"

"Nuh-uh. Not me, chief."

"You, Anemone?" Anemone shook her head.

"Nope. Not me."

"Moondoggie?"

"I'd never, pal! Never in a million years!" He turned to Gidget, Moondoggie's girlfriend and the radar operator.

"Miss Freiberg?"

"Uh-uh."

"Quartermaster Rostonova?"

"I would never!"

"Matthieu, if this is one of your (hic!) jokes, I'm gonna (hic!) pound you."

"I don't make it a habit of slipping beer in people's canteens, okay? Besides, I'd hate to be pounded by a drunken Renton!" Everyone laughed as Renton moved on to the next one. He came to Holland, who was sweating and very nervous. The jig was up for him.

"Holland, don't (hic!) tell me _you_ switched the (hic!) water!"

"O-o-o-o-okay, I won't."

"BROTHER!" Eureka said, shocked and unbelievingly.

"Well, it's a stupid principle, anyway! Everyone starts drinking some time!"

"You don't have the right to try and change the way _my_ husband and _your_ friend and brother-in-law chooses to live his life."

"Yeah," said Renton in a slurred voice. "I don't (hic!) go around telling you not to (hic!) drink, do I?"

"No, Renton," Holland said defeated.

"As a discipline-(hic!)-disciplinary measure, I'm putting you (hic!) under arrrrrrest for in-(hic!)-toxicating an officer." Renton lost his balance and fell face first on the floor. Everyone laughed as Eureka came to the side of her inebriated husband. She first turned to Holland, ashamed at her brother for such a childish trick.

"I'll deal with you later, brother." She turned over Renton on his back. "Renton, I think it's time I got you to bed."

"G-g-g-great idea, (hic!) honey!" Eureka dragged Renton by the hands to their quarters and he started drunkenly singing, to the laughter of everybody.

_Show me the way to go home (Everybody!)_  
_I'm tired and I want to go to bed (Just the ladies!)_  
_I had a little drink about an hour ago_  
_And it got right to my head_  
_Where ever I may roam_  
_On land or sea or foam_  
_You will always hear me singing this song_  
_Show me the way to go home!_

Renton was dragged onto his bed and fell right to sleep, slowly working the poison out of his system, bringing to a close the fun carousing day this had been. Nothing military had been accomplished, and none cared in the least.

* * *

A/N: Insert reference to Episode 5 here. HAHAHAHA! Seeing a Renton wasted is always funny! Preview time: 

_The time for play and relaxation is over, and it's back to the war. The boy sends different units on independent command to counter different threats before striking at the massacred city and the city of the Poles. The beast has strangely been getting reinforcements despite the ports occupied by the Army of the Republic. What could this mean for the Resistance? Where are the reinforcements coming from?_

**Next time: On Our Own**


	25. Chapter 25: On Our Own

**Chapter Twenty-five: On Our Own**

**February 17****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere east of Ciudades Del Cielo, California**

A fiery eyed young 19-year old (recently promoted) captain with matted hair walked through the UBF CP, trying to find the "Commissar," his commanding officer. He had recently escaped the grasp of GekkoState and had been picked up by his comrades. He was dressed in a traditional Red Army uniform since the UBF had abandoned its distinct red uniforms for being too bright and too noticeable. They were all dressed as ordinary Soviet soldiers would be. He came to the end of a long hallway and came face to face with his commander.

His long grey hair was wrapped behind him in a ponytail. His ice blue eyes cast a glare, an unfeeling stare at him, piercing the young man's very soul. He was dressed in a Red Army uniform, with his gold shoulder straps denoting the rank of Comrade Colonel. He wore white gloves on his hands, as if to shield the evil sensations from all around him, to protect himself from being soiled by any who touched him. The young man saluted the "Commissar."

"Zdravstvуtye, Kamrad Polkovnik Novakov." (A/N: Russian for: Hello, Comrade Colonel Novakov.)

"Zdravstvуtye, Kamrad Kapitan Chertov. It is good to have you with us again."

"It is good to _be_ back. You wanted to see me, Comrade Colonel."

"Da. It is of urgent concern." The Colonel put his arm around the young lieutenant's shoulder and walked with him down the hall of the CP. "Perhaps I should fill you in, Comrade Lieutenant: fate has not been kind to us since we lost you. We have suffered many defeats at the hands of the GekkoState Army and their leader." The captain's eyebrows furrowed in seething anger.

"Thurston. That boy is becoming more and more of an annoyance!"

"My thoughts exactly, Captain. He is a cunning and intelligent leader, more so than I had thought. If we are to stop this fighting with a favorable outcome, we must stop it at its source: Renton Thurston. If he is eliminated, the entire rebel army will be left without a leader and GekkoState will collapse. The first thing I want you to do, Comrade Chertov, is go north. We have intelligence which shows us that there are many organizations in these parts that might be helpful to our cause. You are to go north and use your methods of persuasion to have them join ranks with us, when you have done that, you will kill Renton Thurston."

"Pardon me, Comrade Colonel, but I do not know where to find him."

"_He_ will find _you_." Chertov raised an eyebrow, not fully understanding.

"Sir?"

"When he learns that you, one of his oldest enemies, is back and behind all this, he will _have_ to come looking for you, and he will _have_ to deal with you himself. That is the moment when you kill him. Do you understand, Comrade Chertov?"

"Yes, Comrade Colonel."

"Good. Good." He removed his arm from Chertov's shoulder, as if contaminated by him. His eyes narrowed, seeing into something no one could. "This must not fail. This must not fail! The Motherland and the fate of the future Revolution rests in our efforts, Chertov. If we fail, the World Revolution is doomed. See to it you succeed. I expect nothing less of you. Do you understand, Captain?" Chertov saluted promptly and sharply.

"Da, Comrade Commissar. This will be the last time Renton interferes with Soviet affairs. I shall see to it myself." The Colonel gave him the old Bolshevik salute and bellowed that old fanatic cry.

"Glory to the Revolution!" Chertov repeated this salute immediately.

"Glory to the Revolution!"

"You are dismissed. Do not fail me, Comrade Captain Chertov." Chertov bowed slightly and walked away out the exit of the CP. The Colonel changed direction and began back to his personal quarters. All the while, he whispered the words that haunted him and his efforts up to now.

"This must not fail!"

»»»»»

**February 18****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere west of Ciudades Del Cielo, California**

Renton and Eureka had been scheming to get their revenge on Holland for what he did. The kids, wanting to have some fun with nothing to do, gladly volunteered to help. Holland had underestimated his little sister and his friend. They had a mean side to them he had never really seen. The commander and his wife swore they would have their revenge.

Holland woke up groggily that morning and went to the small kitchen of the little townhouse. He found Eureka spread out on the sofa in the general living area, still dressed in her nightgown reading a book.

"Eureka, do you know where the coffee is?"

"In the cupboard on the bottom, brother," she said without looking up.

"Spasibo." (A/N: Russian for thank you)

Holland, usually groggy in the mornings always had a coffee with milk and two sugars, with a bowl of soup. He found the coffee grounds in the cupboard and a can of soup. The can had been placed there earlier by the kids with a special surprise inside. He first took the coffee grounds and burned them, only to find that there was a full mug beside the coffee maker. He took the mug and sat on a stool at the bar in the kitchen. When he drank it, he encountered a disgusting putrid taste. He quickly spit up what was in the mug.

Mud.

"UGH!"

"What's wrong, brother?" Eureka called from the living area, secretly knowing what was wrong.

"SOMEONE PUT MUD IN MY COFFEE!" Eureka smiled as she turned a page in her book.

"Oh dear. I wonder who could have done that."

Holland turned to the can of soup and opened it up to be surprised by a giant snake. It was one of those joke cans where a cloth snake popped out of the can when it was opened.

"ARRRGHHH!"

"What the matter now?"

"SOMEONE SWITCHED THE SOUP CAN WITH A JOKE CAN!" Eureka smiled wider. _I wonder who._

"It looks like I'll have to talk to the children."

"You do that…" he emerged with his cap on his head, fully dressed. "I'm going to get a can of soup."

"I doubt seriously you'll find a store open so early."

"There has to be an open store somewhere in this damn city!"

"Well, be sure to come back soon, brother. There's something important I have to talk with you about."

Holland went down to the front door and when he took the first step out the door he slipped and landed on his back. The front entrance had been iced. Eureka ran down the stairs and looked down at her brother right in the eyes.

"I heard a noise."

"I guess the kids iced the entrance too." Eureka smiled mischievously.

"Guess again, brother."

She stepped to one side and there was a tin bucket with water. Holland's eyes widened in shock. Could his sister be this…bad!?!

"Eureka, don't tell me you—"

"Lex talionis, brother. Let the punishment fit the crime." Holland stood up in rage and glared at Eureka.

"If you were not my sister, I'd—!" Eureka waved a finger at him.

"Ah-ah-ah! What would the Commander say, brother?" Holland growled in frustration and walked out the door, stepping over the ice. "Come back soon, brother. We have lots to talk about." She went up the stairs and was greeted by Renton, having enough strength to stand.

"Having fun?" he said wryly, grinning.

"I never thought being bad could feel so _good_." Eureka stood beside him and he put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Revenge is sweet, isn't it, hon?"

"It's not revenge. It's justice. Wouldn't you agree Commander Thurston?"

"I could not agree more, Mrs. Thurston."

**February 19****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere west of Porbayevsk, California**

Holland and Talho had managed to find a church and have a small wedding ceremony the day before they were sent on independent command. The old promises were kept and fulfilled at last. He was married to the love of his life.

They slept in a small cot in an abandoned farmhouse that made the CP for the Russian Brigade. Ever since the 17th, Renton had sent different units on independent command, to counter different threats. Usually it involved disrupting patrols, scouting Red Shirt positions, gathering intelligence on enemy strength. Exciting to the civilian, but tedious to the experienced military man. After the revenge she and Renton had on him, it was the best punishment Holland's little sister could think of. It suited him, she thought, since he was always hand-picked by Renton for special dangerous missions. Serves brother right, Eureka thought.

"_It's about time you experienced the largest part of army life, brother: boredom."_

Renton was not present at the scolding; he was in bed with a large hangover. In his post-intoxicated state, he could barely gather the energy to speak. It was bad enough to be reprimanded by Renton, Holland's oldest and closest friend, but to be reprimanded by Eureka, Holland's 16-year-old sister, was downright embarrassing! He was now put to the sidelines, away from the action until orders came from headquarters. This was the worst for Holland, but Talho had fun constantly reminding him of it.

He woke up first as usual and quickly went to bathe and put on his White Army uniform. Talho was a late sleeper and not much for getting up in the mornings. Granted it was something she was compelled to do since it was part of the job, but there was always grogginess in her in the mornings.

The ritual in the morning was the same since he was sent on probationary independent command. He would wake up and let Talho sleep in, ask Fyodor Rostovsky, his best regimental commander, for a coffee with milk and two sugars, and listen to the empty reports from the regimental commanders.

"No activity."

"We spotted an enemy patrol but they turned and ran the moment they saw us."

"All quiet in our sector."

"Not a Red in sight."

"Nothing significant to report."

Holland would sigh and give lackluster congratulations to them, saying,

"Good work, gentlemen. Keep it up and we'll end this thing soon enough…as soon as we get orders." There was a snickering in the ranks of the officers, which Holland always ignored. The meeting was concluded and all attended to their different businesses. As Holland went back to his quarters to see Talho, he heard her voice from behind him say,

"If only you didn't slip the beer in his canteen…" She giggled quietly as Holland tiredly turned around.

"If only he weren't so pious."

"If only he and _his wife_ weren't so pious." Holland put his arm around her shoulder and the two sat down on a small wooden bench.

"As long as I've known him, I've gotten my fair share of reprimands and lectures, but never before have I been scolded by my own sister!"

"She has a point, though. You _did_ do it without him knowing."

"Da, da. I know. Still it _was_ pretty funny to see him drunk, nyet?" The two laughed.

"That it was. Consider this not as a punishment, lubov. Consider it as a sort of…vacation on the job."

"I shudder to think what punishment Renton would have given me!"

"At least your sister has some compassion. She wouldn't be so heartless as to relieve you of your duty or something. It's a rather ingenious reprimand, I find. Rather than dealing out probation or a relief of duty, she chooses instead to cast General Holland Novakov, Renton's closest friend and best fighter and her beloved brother, to the sidelines where the only potential threat that exists is a shortage of vodka."

She laughed, her mouth curling into her trademark curlicue smile. Holland could not help but laugh along with her. His sister, although at times overly virtuous like her husband and his best friend, was a caring, clever, and compassionate little girl, just as she always had been. Renton could not have a better woman for a wife, he thought to himself. God bless the two of them. Give them a long and happy life together.

Holland and Talho left the HQ and walked arm in arm along a road, as they usually did in their spare time. They ran into a small enemy patrol, but they quickly ran at the sight of the feared GekkoState general and his wife.

"They daren't look us in the face," Talho said in derision of the retreating Reds. "Is this what our foe has come to? He doesn't have the guts to come out and fight us like a soldier."

"Brother runs away and hides as he always does. He is spineless." Talho looked up at her newlywed husband and stared at his soft blue eyes, brooding over something with a sense of careful prudence.

"Lubov, is Dewey really your brother, or is it just a lot of talk?"

"He is. I wish I could say he was not."

"It strikes me odd that your brother is so different from you!"

"Because I took Renton as my friend."

"What do you mean?"

"Had it not been for what he taught me, Vladimir and Eureka, I would not be who I am today. Back in the Soviet Union, we were taught not to have compassion for those who were different from us. Those who thought differently were inferiors and would eventually be crushed. That was what I and everyone I knew believed before he came to visit us. When he came, he brought what he learned and passed it on to us, and we were never the same again. He came from a place where one could have a conscience and not feel guilty about it, where there was a definite sense of justice, and where one could have the freedom to speak the truth and not be afraid. After we had met him and had played with him, and had learnt from him, we knew what it meant to be free. That's what changed me."

Talho was struck. Holland, the younger brother of the accursed enemy, the feared "Iron General", her husband, became who he was all because that boy met him and his family and learned through him what it meant to live free. He had become the man he was now, all thanks to Renton.

"Talho, if there is one thing I thank God for every day of my life, I thank him for granting me and my sister the good fortune of meeting my future brother-in-law and her future husband. I am thankful I have him as my friend. I would not be here the way I am today had it not been for him."

»»»»»

**Somewhere northwest of Ciudades Del Cielo, California**

In contrast to the dull boring job Holland was assigned, Dominic and Anemone had a very important task.

Recent reports from his intelligence service indicated a high level of enemy activity in the region northwest of Ciudades Del Cielo. In order to find out, it would take some good old-fashioned espionage.

Dominic had gone up ahead and was looking around for anything that seemed unusual. He soon spotted a place that would be a haven for Reds: an old abandoned farmhouse with a red roof. The walls were decaying slightly and there wasn't much security. But still, he had to make sure.

He lay down on the ground and looked through his high-power binoculars, trying to find an opening. He looked around, seeing there were not many guards lining the house. These arrogant Reds think no one can find them? Think again, Dominic thought with a wide mischievous grin.

"You went out without telling me?!" He turned around and found Anemone looking down at him, hands on her hips, pretending to be offended.

"Hey, this is a very dangerous mission and I can't risk losing you!" Anemone lay down next to him and nuzzled him.

"We're partners, aren't we? We work together. Always. I don't want to remind you, Mr. Sorel!"

"No need, Mrs. Sorel. I know." He gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek and turned back to the house.

"What's the news?"

"Nothing, except that barn looks like the perfect place for Red headquarters."

"Funny, I don't see any Reds."

"We'll see them soon enough…oh, speak of the devil!"

Dominic spotted a Red officer being escorted by three guards carrying PPSh-41 submachine guns. Behind the Red officer was a small group of civilians, about 15 in all. At the front was a trio of three men wearing grey jackets, white shirts and red ties. They all wore black flat caps on their heads, and seemed to be the chiefs of the civilians. This was getting very strange. Dominic handed the binoculars to Anemone and let her look through.

"Our old enemies are looking well, but who are those people? They're not Reds."

"That's what concerns me." The officer went in the front entrance and the crowd of civilians soon followed. "We better investigate." Dominic got up and brushed the dirt off his uniform. "Let's go." Anemone growled in frustration as she got up.

"Goddammit, I didn't come prepared for this sort of thing!" Dominic chuckled quietly as they went to the side of the house, trying to find a way in. There was a hole in the wall a few feet above them.

"No other way in." Dominic cupped his hands. "Up you go. Ladies first." Anemone stepped into his palms and Dominic lifted her up to the hole. She grabbed the side and slithered into the house and turned down to her husband. She extended her hand which he gladly took, and he walked up the wall to the hole. When he was inside the house, standing upright, Anemone pulled Dominic into an embrace and gave him a loving kiss. Dominic laughed.

"Hon, this is hardly the time," he whispered, smiling lovingly.

"Anytime is a good time for me."

There was no time to neck and express their love now; there was spying that needed to be done. They got down on their hands and knees and crawled slowly on the walkway, coming above a general living area. They looked down and saw the Red officer walking with the crowd of civilians.

"We have to persuade the Americans for Revolution and the Bolshevik League to sign the agreement," the Red officer spoke in a familiar voice. Dominic and Anemone knew they recognized that voice from somewhere.

"What about Renton Thurston?" asked a man with brown hair wearing a grey jacket white shirt and red tie. "Is he dead yet? I am not signing the alliance papers until I have his head on my desk."

"I always keep my promises, Comrade President."

"When we join with you," a blonde wearing a frock coat said from behind the brown-haired man, "the United Bolshevik Force will once again be the best army in the whole of California."

Dominic and Anemone looked to each other with worry. This sounded very suspicious. Americans for Revolution? The Bolshevik League? A plot to kill Renton? What could all of this mean? They watched as the officer and the crowd of civilians passed under them and went to a circular table. The Red officer sat down and shuffled some papers around. Dominic and Anemone, both very tense and nervous, went over a series of mind-boggling questions that came at them in lightning flashes. Who was this Red officer? Why did he sound so familiar? Who were these people?

"I can guarantee that more communist organizations will join our cause with your help, comrades," the Red officer said.

Who was this man? Why does he sound so familiar?

"Captain," said a red haired man in an olive green trench coat, "do realize that what you are proposing could be seen as sedition. If anyone discovers we have committed treason, we are sure to be executed."

"No one shall find out, comrade Bergeron. By the time they do figure it out, it will be too late."

"The American Bolshevik Organization is at your disposal, Comrade Captain," said the blonde in the frock coat with a smile.

"Thank you, Comrade Garrison. Your support will prove invaluable."

Bergeron and a group of other men wearing white shirts and blue suspenders talked amongst themselves for a while before turning to the Red captain.

"The Bolshevik League will sign your agreement, Comrade Captain." The captain smiled.

"Good. Good." He gestured to the trio of men wearing grey jackets. "The Young Communists Guild has assured us of their support. When your organizations and theirs join our ranks, we will once again have an army mightier than any in the state of California. The GekkoState Army will be crushed and the state government will be forced to concede to any demands we make." All arose from their seats and the brown-haired man wearing the grey jacket turned to the captain.

"I think I speak for everyone when I say it's been a pleasure, Captain Chertov." The brown haired man shook the captain's hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Comrade President."

Dominic and Anemone looked to each other, absolutely astonished and stupefied. Chertov! Renton's old rival! The man that was caught by the children back in Controrado was back! He had escaped! From what it had sounded, he was orchestrating another one of Dewey's plans. Another attempt to destroy GekkoState and kill Renton. Soon they turned around and began to head to the hole where they came in. They had to get this information to Renton and the others! There was little time to spare!

They jumped down from the hole in the wall and ran away from the farmhouse, trying to go over in their heads what had just transpired. They reached the road and Dominic quickly took off a radio transmitter he had been carrying with him.

"We have to get this information to Renton," Dominic said with great urgency. Anemone nodded and took the receiver of the radio. "I'm going to try and get on GekkoState's frequency. Tell me if you hear anything." Dominic turned a knob on the radio and Anemone listened carefully. Dominic looked up to Anemone but she shook her head. She couldn't hear anything. Dominic turned another knob and Anemone listened in again.

"Nothing. Just a bunch of high-pitched whines and static." Dominic sighed.

"Looks like the long-range mechanism has been knocked out. We better try something closer. Anemone, I'm going to put it on Battalion CP frequency. Tell me if you hear anything." Dominic turned the knob back and Anemone listened carefully. She nodded.

"I hear a lot of chatter." She passed the receiver to Dominic who put it to his ear.

"Major Jurgens, this is First Lieutenant Dominic Sorel. My long-range mechanism has been knocked out. Forward this message to GekkoState headquarters. I have just come back from infiltrating a farmhouse being used as a meeting place for the Soviets. Four seditious organizations with Soviet loyalties have met with a representative from the United Bolshevik Force. The representative is Captain Ilya Chertov, who is at the head of a plot to assassinate Renton Thurston. The seditious organizations: Young Communists Guild, American Bolshevik Organization, the Bolshevik League and the Americans for Revolution have all pledged their services to the UBF with the hope of—"

Dominic sensed something and looked to see Anemone staring in fright at three Red guards coming straight at them. They had been found out.

"Wait. Wait."

Dominic drew his Colt 45 pistol and promptly fired on the guards, killing two of them. Anemone grabbed the transmitter and the two started back to Battalion CP, with the hope they had gotten their message. If anything goes wrong, all will end in catastrophe.

The third guard aimed his machine gun at them and ordered them to halt and turn themselves in. Dominic and Anemone kept running, trying to get past him.

"Ostanovka! Stoy ili ya sgorim!" (A/N: Russian for "Halt! Stop or I'll fire!") Anemone grabbed Dominic's pistol and aimed it at the guard.

"SHUT UP WITH THAT DIRTY PIG LATIN!" She fired three times, and three bullets zipped through the coat of the guard; one went through his sternum, two in the left lung. The guard fell dead instantly and the two continued running down the road, as Captain Chertov worriedly turned to the organizations' leaders.

"We must move quickly! Thurston will strike fiercely and ruthlessly if we do not act!"

»»»»»

**GekkoState Headquarters**

"It is settled," said the commander, with stern resolve. "The time for waiting is over. Moondoggie, get on the radios and recall all units here immediately. The organizations are sure to attack while they think we're still divided. Gidget, get on the radar and give me the location of the organizations' personnel."

"Sure thing, Renton," Moondoggie and Gidget said in unison before turning to the radios.

"As for Chertov...I'll deal with him myself. I feel there is more to this than what has been said."

"Sir," a young second lieutenant spoke up, "if there is an assassination plot in the works, Chertov will surely come looking for you, or he might send someone else. With all due respect, Commander, it would be wiser for you to stay here."

"Lieutenant, Chertov doesn't know where we are. Further, he is an old enemy of mine. I suspect he wants something more out of this. He is sure to commit the assassination himself. I must deal with him myself so we can put a stop to this madness before it gets out of hand."

"As you wish, Commander Thurston." The commander then turned to a brown-haired first sergeant.

"Sergeant, have a car made ready. We're moving out now."

"Yes, sir."

"Any other questions?" The response from all personnel in the room was the same:

"No, sir."

"God go with you." The personnel in the room saluted in an instant.

"And you."

Everyone dispersed to their respective businesses and Renton quickly walked down the stairs, grabbing his trench coat off the coat rack in the front room.

"Do you really have to wear that all the time?" his wife said from behind him. "You always look so dark and gloomy in that." He turned and found her staring at him, her dark hair flowing down her shoulders like a great sheath of water breaking over a dam, and her grey eyes looking up at him in a subtle care and concern.

"You said yourself I look handsome in whatever I wear."

"Consistency _can_ be overdone, Renton."

"I best take heed of your advice ma'am, and always try to look my best." He kissed her lightly and grabbed the saber given to him by Jacques before the two of them went out the door onto the street where a black Ford was waiting for them. They quickly got in and the car sped away to forward command center, northwest of town. Inside, Renton lamented his frustration, his astonishment and incredulity that Ilya Chertov, the man they had captured in Controrado, one of Renton's oldest enemies, was back.

"Chertov! How can it be possible that _he_ is behind this?! I thought we had gotten rid of him!"

"Apparently not," Eureka said, trying to keep herself calm. "We'll have to step up security regarding prisoners. If Chertov can escape, so can others."

"I agree." There was a slight silence. "Chertov wants something more out of this. I can feel it." Eureka knew what he wanted as much as Renton did. Chertov was, as everyone who knew him was well aware, had a severe hatred for Renton, and had been his long-time rival and enemy during Renton's first trip to Russia, second only to Dewey himself. Surely Dewey chose him for that.

"Chertov will enjoy no greater pleasure than killing the man he has long since despised," Eureka said, both of them knowing the gravity and yet utter contemptibility of what was surely about to unfold.

"Darling, I want you to leave Chertov to me. I don't want you involved in this."

"Renton…"

"Eureka, if you're with me, he'll kill you too. I don't want that. Please, Eureka, do this for me." Eureka lowered her head slightly. Renton took her by the chin and lifted her head up. "Don't be afraid, my love. Everything will be set right."

"I'm not afraid. I shouldn't be. I'm not afraid of things I don't know; there's no reason for it."

"To be afraid is to be human." With that, Renton planted a soft kiss on her lips. "I won't let you be alone ever. That's a promise I'll never break."

The car screeched to a stop and they were parked on the street. In front of them stood a tall townhouse, more than 10 stories high. From the observation level, one had a clear view of the muddy wide fields beyond. The organizations' personnel, numbering almost 1900, were approaching from the northwest. Holland was too far away to help as was Commander Harrison's militia. Spangenberg's "German Legion" of 1050 men was now arriving on the field along with Stabowski's First Polish Regiment of 650 men. Dog, Easy and Fox Companies were retreating down a road that ran along the field to the right; the organizations had attacked with overwhelming force and inflicted a heavy toll on the three companies. The organizations were sure to overrun all opposition and defeat GekkoState while Renton's forces were still divided. If the madness was to stop, the organizations had to be defeated in a pitched battle across these fields. Spangenberg's men, dressed in their Old Prussian style uniforms dating back to Frederick the Great, stood in a long battle line, the flags of the new German republic flying in the cold February air. Stabowski's Polish regiment covered the German Legion's left flank, standing firm with the flags of their beloved Poland standing tall against the dark cloudy sky.

Chertov, on the opposite side of the muddy field, looked through his binoculars at the long line of men in full battle array covering the entrance to the town. He smiled and chuckled sinisterly. What a fool, that Thurston, Chertov thought. This attempt to make a stand shall prove fruitless, as we are more powerful now than ever before!

"At last GekkoState shall collapse. At last Thurston will be gone. At last we shall have our revenge..."

They will be no match for us.

He turned to the leaders of the organizations and said firmly, "Comrades, deploy your men in battle line facing the militias. Wipe them all out. Kill them all."

"Yes, Comrade Captain." The organizations' personnel were loaded into transport trucks and shuttled across the field to the setup point. Chertov laughed menacingly.

"I can just imagine the look on your face, Renton Thurston. Prepare yourself, for this battle is just the starter. I will save your ultimate fight for the center stage! This will be your last stand!"

The trucks were now 750 yards away from the enemy lines and all personnel were ordered out and into line. Soon they stood in a long battle line three ranks deep, carrying rifles slung over their shoulders. Soon orders came.

"Fix bayonets!" The men took their rifles off and placed the butt of their rifles in the ground. They quickly unsheathed their bayonets and locked them on to the muzzles of their rifles. Then, with the movement of machines, they turned to face the line of militiamen across the field and aimed their bayonets at them, glinting in the sun shining through the dark clouds.

"FORWARD…MARCH!"

And then the men marched across the field, towards the town beyond, towards the GekkoState militiamen waiting for them.

Renton, viewing this from the observation deck through his binoculars, turned to a radio transmitter and put the receiver to his ears, connecting himself to Spangenberg at the center of the line.

"Ja, Herr Kommandant?" Spangenberg bellowed in a thick German accent.

"General Spangenberg, wait for the enemy to come within 400 yards, then fire."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Renton sighed inside, knowing perfectly well Spangenberg spoke fluent English like everyone else.

"And General?"

"Ja?"

"God be with you."

"Gott ist mit Ihnen auch, Herr Kommandant." (A/N: German for: God be with you too, Commander.)

"Danke, Herr General." Renton hung up and watched as the organizations' personnel came closer and closer.

600 yards.

550.

500.

450.

Spangenberg ordered his brigade to the ready arms position.

"Bereit machen!" The men brought their guns forward, their bayonets pointed at the oncoming enemy.

"Zielen!" The Germans brought their rifles shakily to their shoulders, aiming at the buckles and the badges on the personnel's belts.

"Feuer!"

The German militia discharged their rifles right in their enemies' faces, cutting down the whole first line with few exceptions, a reaper cutting the new wheat with a scythe. The enemy personnel broke into a run, opening fire on the militia line. The militias went forward in kind, firing as they advanced the personnel, two large ships ramming each other on a foggy night. Soon they ran into each other and the melee began. Red versus GekkoStater, freedom versus tyranny, order versus chaos, good versus evil. Renton saw through his binoculars the evil that resided within all, seeing ferocity and mercilessness everywhere: men bashing each other over the head with the butt of their rifles, stabbing each other with their bayonet as one would an animal, even men grappling with their bare hands and biting each other on their necks or noses, looking like wild beasts. He turned away not wanting to look on the thing that he himself had taken part in not too long ago. It was enough to make him hate himself for what he had to do to protect his friends and loved ones.

On the other side of the field Chertov smiled, his plan going smoothly. This set piece battle was merely a distraction, something to avert Renton's attention as Chertov moved in for the kill, and assassinate Renton himself. He looked to a second lieutenant standing by a blood red hatchback, ready to move. He chuckled menacingly and walked over to the lieutenant.

"Start the car, Comrade. The time has come."

"Yes, Comrade Captain." He got in the car and turned the key, the motor humming. Chertov quickly hopped into the backseat and the car sped down the road, toward the townhouse that made the forward command center for Renton.

_Renton Thurston…you will fall…_

The hatchback rapidly ran along the road, deflecting the fire it attracted like a magnet coming closer and closer to the townhouse. Sentries manning the entrance quickly opened fire, but Chertov produced from his pocket his TT-9 pistol, and shot all the sentries dead. The car screeched and slid to one side, crashing on the sidewalk opposite the townhouse.

Chertov jumped from the car and ran to the entrance. He broke down the door and encountered three guards on the ground floor carrying Thompson submachine guns.

"It's the assassin! Kill him!"

Chertov laughed maniacally and quickly drew from its scabbard a polished saber with a red bell guard, the hammer and sickle superimposed in a pentagonal star that radiated from the blade. The guards opened fire, but Chertov charged at the guards avoiding their fire. He slashed at every one of the guards who tried to resist in an instant. The blade was dripping with blood, and the desire for Thurston's blood permeated in Chertov's fiery unfeeling eyes.

"Nothing but pitiful lackeys! All of you!"

He ran up the stairs to the next level, knowing Renton would have to come down and fight him.

_This will be your last fight, boy._

From atop the observation level, Renton and Eureka heard bodies hitting the floor on the bottom level. They opened the door to the lower levels and heard someone running up the stairs. It could only be one person. The old rival. The man filled with hatred and lust for revenge.

Chertov.

Renton knew what was sure to come next, of what he had to do. He turned to his beloved Eureka and looked her deep into her eyes, conveying everything he was feeling by the look in his face.

"Eureka, I want you to find a safe place to hide and stay there." Eureka nodded, knowing it was best to do as he said.

"Yes, Renton."

"Stay. There." Eureka nodded and Renton gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead before running for the stairs to deal with Chertov. Eureka hid behind a ventilator and waited, listened, for what she knew would come next.

Renton calmly walked down the steps with his saber at his side, knowing Chertov would be waiting for him. He was not afraid, only ready to put an end to this madness, to stop another plot. If he had to kill him, so be it. He would rather die than see Chertov and everything he stood for triumph. He reached the bottom of the steps on the second to top floor and sure enough, there he was.

Chertov stood in his Red Army uniform, the gold shoulder straps denoting the rank of Captain. His tall black boots were muddy and his olive green trousers slightly stained with the blood of the guards he had slain. The saber he carried was dripping with blood, falling on the floorboards like drops of ghastly rainwater. His dark matted hair spread to the left of his head, strands of it hanging in his face. The eyes were filled with anger, hatred, and the lust to kill Renton, the man he so despised. He smiled, showing slightly yellow teeth which added and accentuated his dark sinister look.

Chertov looked to his rival and saw not a lust and readiness for a fight, but merely a calm and readiness to carry out what was necessary. The dark green eyes had no hatred or maliciousness in them; they carried wistfulness and brooding for want of things to return to the way they were before this God-awful mess. The hair was scraggly and spiky-looking (A/N: imagine Renton's usual look in terms of hair) as it always had since he first met him almost eight years ago. Surprisingly to Chertov, he was not even dressed for this fight; he was wearing the outfit given to him by Doggie and Gidget for Christmas. He had hardly the look of a warrior. More of an ordinary boy. The only thing that showed any evidence he was prepared for a fight was the saber with the gold bell guard he firmly grasped in his hand.

_This boy doesn't even look the part! I shall so enjoy this._

"I'm glad we could meet one last time, you lapdog of this corrupt capitalist country!" Renton laughed calmly.

"How amusing. It almost sounds as if you've been waiting for me, Chertov." Chertov smiled as hi eyes widened, bringing out a new maniacal dynamic to his look.

"Why, certainly! I wanted to settle our old rivalry once and for all, and uncover to you the truth you are about to realize!"

"I think I finally understand how men like you think. But there is one thing you must know: this is nothing personal, Chertov. I'm just doing my duty."

"Of course! That is precisely the logic only a lapdog would spout!" He took a few steps closer to him. "Where is that usual annoying rant of yours? Communist scum this, Bolshevik thug that? Now it is time for you to fight me like the hero so many claim you to be, Thurston!"

Chertov laughed maniacally as Renton walked toward him and swiftly slashed him across the shoulder, leaving a large cut. Chertov looked on his wound in surprise.

_This boy is more cunning than I ever knew!_

Their sabers clashed and each tried to score a crippling blow in a flurry of movements. This was familiar to them. They had done this so many times before. Chertov attacked with ferocity and viciousness, forcing Renton back to the stairs. Renton thrust for Chertov's abdomen, but Chertov blocked it and their eyes and sabers were locked, each staring the other down. Chertov reached for his TT-9 pistol in its holster to quickly shoot and kill Renton. Renton soon caught sight of this however and broke apart from the deadlock they were in before kicking the pistol out of his hand.

"Let's agree," Renton said panting, "No guns." Chertov chuckled evilly.

"Still the pathetic pretender, aren't you, Thurston? Where's old friend Holland to help you now?! Where's your precious Eureka?! Better yet, where is your army of rabble!?!?!" He cracked a crooked dark smile. "I shall thoroughly enjoy this."

Chertov brought the blade down on Renton's head, but Renton quickly parried it as he went back up the stairs. Chertov swung his saber around like a club, trying to slash at him only to be parried again and again by Renton as they went further up the stairs. The days of dueling each other with wooden swords showed in their skills. Renton struck at his lower leg, but Chertov parried and counterattack with a thrust to the chest, but that was cast aside by Renton's blade. Chertov swung his saber around, trying to slash at Renton's head. Renton ducked to avoid the blade and attacked again only to be blocked. Chertov kicked Renton in the stomach, and Renton fell on the steps. He looked up to see Chertov raising his blade over his head, ready to strike a final blow. Renton used the opportunity to cut at both his legs, leaving a large gash running along Chertov's thighs. Chertov held his wound tight and brought his hand to his face, seeing the blood. He looked back to Renton who was up on his feet, and scowled at him.

"You are becoming more and more of an annoyance, boy!" Renton brought his saber to the ready position.

"Trust me, Chertov. It gets worse." Chertov leered, looking like a madman.

"IT DOES NOT!"

Chertov struck at him again and Renton parried as he went back and back up the stairs, closer to the observation level. Chertov laughed insanely as he forced Renton up the stairs with every blow he struck. Renton continued to block all of them, but Chertov was vicious and unstoppable in a fight. In the many times which they dueled, Renton found Chertov the most challenging of opponents. Chertov struck at Renton's head once more, but Renton blocked it and brought their blades down. Chertov was defenseless when Renton hit him hard in the face with the back of his fisted hand. Chertov was thrown down the steps until he came to a stop and looked up to see Renton climbing the stairs to the observation deck.

"YOU WON'T ESCAPE ME THIS TIME, BOY!"

Chertov rose to his feet and ran up the stairs finding Renton near the doorway to the observation level. In a few seconds multiple hits were dealt on both sides, only to be struck down and parried and followed by ripostes and counterattacks whose possible fruits of success were denied to the two rivals. Their sabers were locked coming together at an axis as the old enemies stared each other down. In Chertov's eyes Renton found nothing but hatred and anger, and in Renton's eyes Chertov found a calm and somewhat morose wistfulness for things to return to as they once were, before this whole fiasco. They broke apart and Chertov kicked Renton in the abdomen, breaking down the door and flinging him out into the open observation deck.

Eureka, still hiding behind the ventilator, jumped down when the door broke down and looked to find Renton and Chertov dueling fiercely…

_Please Renton, don't die. Please, please, please don't die, my darling. I can't live without you._

Chertov struck again and again at Renton, cackling menacingly as he forced Renton back. Renton reached deep down into himself and found a courage and strength even he had not known before now. He fought back, first trying to strike at his leg and then his head. Both were blocked and Renton turned a full 360 degrees before striking at Chertov's leg again. Chertov caught him and forced him with his blade to hit the side of the railing. Chertov tried to take the opportunity to strike him down but Renton denied him the pleasure and struck back, fighting with all his might and with the power of love and conscience in his heart guiding him. They circled each other, staring at their sworn enemy as the rumble of guns from the fields below filled the air.

"Do you hear that, Thurston? That roar? That is the fire of our Motherland's wrath released by my comrades."

"Sounds to me like the guns of invaders trying to take away our home and have it for themselves." Chertov laughed evilly.

"That annoying talk of yours is beginning to get on my nerves, boy. My comrades and I will rein down thunderbolts and make your country pay for trying to rule this world!" Renton scowled at him, hearing the rhetoric that had been beaten into the heads of brainwashed millions.

"Not long ago, your Motherland and mine were allies. We put aside our differences to defeat one great evil that threatened to destroy civilization. But when it was all over, it wasn't enough for your leaders in Moscow. Nothing was good enough for them except to have their dream of a one-world communist state fulfilled! Nothing was good enough for them except power! Your Motherland knowingly invaded and occupied the free countries and enslaved innocent millions! AND YOU TALK ABOUT MY COUNTRY QUESTING FOR DOMINATION?!?!?!" Chertov ignored everything and only laughed.

"That's exactly the kind of thinking only a mindless puppet would have! There's just one thing I must make perfectly clear to you, Thurston: I have to teach you that your unmitigated self-confidence, your arrogance in thinking you can defeat _us_, the most powerful nation on earth, is a gigantic delusion BY SENDING YOU TO HELL!"

"You're nothing but a monster. You and your comrades will never win, Chertov. Never."

"We shall see, boy!"

Chertov laughed maniacally struck at him again but Renton parried his attack and soon fought back fiercely, looking to the love in his heart for all he knew for guidance. Renton forced their sabers down and threw a multitude of punches to his abdomen and across Chertov's face and tried to strike one final blow across Chertov's chest. Chertov parried it and their sabers were locked for a few moments, as they once more glared at each other, and as Eureka watched on with fear for her husband. They broke apart from their gridlock and Chertov struck again, managing to slash at Renton's shoulder. The wound was hurting him, but it wasn't enough to incapacitate the old fox. Chertov kicked him in the chest, sending him flying across the deck before sliding across the ground and hitting a railing. Chertov walked towards him, cackling maliciously, carrying his blood-caked saber. Soon he was standing over Renton and raised his saber over his head. Eureka pleaded and prayed to God to spare her husband.

_Please Lord, spare him. Please good Lord, spare him! I love him! I cannot live without him!_

"This is where you meet your end, Thurston!" Chertov said laughing triumphantly.

_Please Renton, don't die._

Just as Chertov brought down his saber Renton rolled on the ground, barely missing Chertov's blade. Renton quickly stood up and punched Chertov four times in Chertov's chest, and then once across the face, casting him back a few feet. They stood for a moment, looking at each other, each somehow knowing the end of this duel was near. Renton pointed his saber at his old enemy and Chertov, bleeding from his nose, mouth, shoulder and leg, brought his saber, the blade red with blood, to the en garde position. Renton and Chertov raised their weapons, each ready to cast the final blow, and brought them down on each other.

Chertov, weakened from this fight and physically battered and bruised, had his saber knocked out of his hand and over the side of the observation level to the street below.

Chertov fell to his knees before finally falling to the ground lying on his back. Renton, having turned the tables, put his hand on Chertov's abdomen and pointed his saber right at Chertov's nose, propping him against the railing. Chertov spoke weakly.

"You may…have won this duel, boy…but…you can't…kill me. It's opposed to everything you stand for." Renton frowned and Chertov and Eureka heard him give the final word.

"Chertov…you and your comrades invaded my home, brought pain and suffering to innocent thousands, and tried to take away everything and everyone I hold dear!" Renton brought his saber down intentionally missing Chertov's head. He pointed it at his nose again. "Surprised, Chertov? Don't be. People like you aren't worth it."

Eureka got up from behind the ventilator and walked to Renton, knowing this was the end for one of their oldest enemies. She placed her hand on Renton's shoulder and Renton turned to see his beautiful loving devoted wife smiling at him. Renton felt the conscience in his heart soar. He turned back to Chertov, cursing him and his kind for what they do and all they stand for.

"Things like freedom and justice will never die. Remember that. Remember this moment, Chertov. Remember this defeat, this humiliation of you and your kind. Remember people like you can never win." Chertov smiled sinisterly and cursed Renton one last time, even though he knew he was doomed.

"Nyet! You remember, Thurston! How my comrades turned defeat into glorious victory for Communism's eventual triumph! Go ahead, Thurston. Kill me. But remember: this fight is not over yet."

Chertov, defiant to the end, pulled out a dagger and kicked Renton back, trying to make one last stand.

It was too late.

Renton knocked the dagger out of his hand and kicked him in the chest, sending him toppling over the railing and falling to the ground ten stories below.

"NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

Chertov hit the street with a crack, killing himself instantly. Eureka looked down to see Chertov's body looking up at them with a hanging stare, the hate still in his eyes. Renton, exhausted and completely at a loss (over what he could not tell), dropped his saber to the ground and fell to his knees, crying softly.

"God help me…God help me…God help me…"

Eureka sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around him, comforting him in the knowledge that it was all over. From the fields, there came the shouts and cheers of the GekkoState militiamen celebrating their hard-fought victory. They had taken many casualties but the organizations' personnel were now in full retreat. It lifted up both their hearts, remembering what Renton had said.

Evil people will never win.

»»»»»

**One day later**

In the original GekkoState headquarters, all high-ranking officers talked amongst each other about what had happened.

"What Chertov said is a glimpse of what kind of enemy we're really facing," Renton said to all. "The ideology and propaganda has become a part of these Reds now. We cannot convince them that what they are doing is wrong, which leaves us no other choice but to continue the fight."

"As if there was a choice to begin with," Holland said knowingly. Renton nodded in agreement.

"Right."

"This kind of look at the Reds," Hans Ziebach, the chief writer and head of RayOut, said scribbling in his notepad, "will be a good article for the next issue of RayOut. The people will definitely get a shock out of this."

"Indeed they will, Mr. Ziebach."

"I gotta say, Renton," Anemone said smiling, "we were lucky this time."

"Yeah," Dominic agreed. "We barely survived this one by the skin of our teeth. If it hadn't been for you killing Chertov and Spangenberg and Stabowski standing up so strong against the attack, it would not have been a victory."

"Victory?" Holland and Talho said incredulously. "Victory, they say. Anemone, Dominic, this is not a victory. Our enemy has been strengthened. There is a long road of fighting still ahead of us."

All nodded, knowing that the worst was yet to come.

Dewey's plan to destroy GekkoState and kill Renton Thurston had ended not only in defeat but in catastrophe. Out of the 1500 organization personnel that were gained, only about 1000 remained. The forces of the GekkoState Army that were engaged had taken 880 casualties, but they were men that could be replaced. Dewey now knew he faced a commander he could slow, but could not stop. The reinforcements from the organizations would no doubt help Dewey, but it was uncertain if the army could sustain itself like this for long.

One thing was certain. As Chertov said, the fight was not over yet.

* * *

A/N: Wow. The GekkoState Alliance barely survived this one. Dewey's got his help and this whole thing is sure as hell not going to end anytime soon. Stay the course. Don't give up. Not ever. 

Here's the preview of what will come next:

_The plan to assassinate the boy ends in failure. Now at the beginning of March, the Resistance launches an offensive to take back the massacred city from the clutches of the beast's elite force. Who will fall in the next battle?_

**Next time: Battle of Ciudades Del Cielo**


	26. Chapter 26: Battle of Ciudades Del Cielo

**Chapter Twenty-six: Battle of Ciudades Del Cielo**

**March 1****st****, 1946**

**Ciudades Del Cielo, California**

The SOF had been reigning terror on the people of Ciudades Del Cielo. Riots were happening more frequently and an uprising was imminent. Now was the time for GekkoState to strike. There was only one objective: make the SOF surrender in disgrace. One key figure stood at the center of power in Del Cielo: the commander of the SOF, Major Boris Debretskoy. A red-haired medium-set man with a temper and skill to match, he was an iron-fisted leader who had a hatred for all Americans, and ruled the city as such. All resistance that had ever been put up was met with a hail of bullets. Any who questioned him was summarily executed for resistance of an officer.

Incontrast to the commander who was in his prime of fighting, the SOF had seen better days. After five months of fighting, the elite Special Operations Force had been cut down, almost decimated. From the feared battalion of 500 men, it was now a cluster of 150 half-starved weary survivors. Debretskoy had orders to hold at all costs or die trying. Orders had to be obeyed.

There was one battle plan for the GekkoState Army. What remained of the SOF was concentrated around the town hall where Debretskoy and his chief officers were. In order to end the fighting as quickly as possible with minimal casualties, Debretskoy had to be eliminated. Holland and Talho would have to kill him themselves. The best way to stop the problem was at its source.

The soldiers of the three loaned Regular Army companies hid amongst the ruins of the city, about 500 yards away from the enemy defensive lines. Holland and Talho stayed further behind them, their sabers at their sides. Dominic and Anemone, at the head of their company, waited for the time to come. Dominic checked his watch and saw the time fast approaching.

Three seconds.

Two.

One.

FWEEET! FWEEET!

"CHARGE!"

Dog Company along with the others rose to their feet and sprinted toward the thin primary defenses of the SOF. Men were knocked out their ranks by the dozen as they approached the line, ready to make quick work of what SOF men defended it. They reached the primary firing lines and stabbing the first line of black-shirted SOF men with their bayonets. Holland and Talho slashed through a number of SOF personnel as Dominic butted one after another in the head with his BAR pumping a round into their stomach. Anemone stabbed one after another with her bayoneted Garand, disgusted with these barbarians, these ruthless invaders and oppressors.

_So many faces looking like they're thinking but actually are not. So disgusting._

The primary line was decimated and the three infantry companies were streaming over the broken ranks of the SOF, heading to the last defenses before the town hall. This time the defenses were dotted with machine gun nests and rifle pits. One squad from Dominic's Dog Company charged to the DP machine gun, never firing a shot, just as they had been trained. They killed the gunners and refaced the machine gun, mowing down a whole line of Reds trying to recapture it. Dominic climbed over the top of the rifle pit and discharged a hail of lead on the Reds in the pit. Soon his uniform was spattered with drops of blood. Holland and Talho fought back-to-back against all Reds that came at them, killing every last one. The companies soon eradicated all resistance and headed for the entrance.

Dominic and Anemone broke down the doors and were greeted by the fire from the hall guards.

"There they are! Fire!"

Dominic and all the soldiers returned fire as they fought their way into the front room of the hall. More guards rushed to the scene but the soldiers crept in closer, as more guards were shot down with a red flash of blood. Anemone yelled to them to pick up the pace.

"KEEP MOVING! KEEP MOVING!"

Soon another line of guards came out from a doorway and formed a solid line, pointing their rifles and submachine guns right at Dominic. Dominic smiled and turned to the men of his company.

"Alright, boys. I need your foot power to help us get through these goons."

"BLAST THEM!" a Red screeched.

Dominic, Anemone and a scratch force of some 20 men charged at the Reds firing on them. Five Army men went down in an instant but they fired as they went, casting holes in the line. Soon they went hand to hand with their sworn enemies. Dominic pressed the muzzle of his BAR to a Red's abdomen and blew a hole big enough for his arm, while Anemone hit one Red after another upside the head with her Garand rifle before stabbing and killing them. Soon the Reds were down and Dominic turned to the door from whence they came.

"Seizo! Hitchens! Cover that doorway!"

"Sir!"

Seizo and Hitchens and a few other men covered the doorway and in five seconds mowed down a whole line of Reds running for the door. Seizo and Hitchens turned to Dominic smiling.

"Position cleared, sir."

"Good, good. Let's keep moving."

Captain Hawkins of Easy Company and Lieutenant Fredericks of Fox Company ran to Dominic to quickly consult with him.

"I'll take Dog Company and work my way up to the mayor's office. You guys go around the back and we'll meet you there. Shoot down every commie you find."

"Don't need to tell us _that_, Lieutenant Sorel." The two turned to their companies and yelled, "Easy Company! Fox Company! We're going around the back!" The two officers returned to their respective commands as Holland and Talho came up to the black-haired lieutenant.

"This is taking too long," Holland complained.

"I wasn't counting on so many Reds. My guess is that Debretskoy and his posse are up in the mayor's office."

"Very well; let's go there." Dominic yelled to the men of his command.

"Dog Company! Inside and follow me!"

The company of 150 soldiers came into the front room and went down the long hall to a set of doors that led to stairs. While walking there, Holland felt something not right.

"I sense Debretskoy."

"So do I," Talho agreed. "And I sense a trap. What's our next move?"

"That should be obvious, lubov: spring the trap." The young married couple laughed as they reached the set of doors. To the surprise of everyone, the doors flung open and there stood Major Debretskoy, commander of the SOF.

He wore his traditional SOF uniform, wearing a black frock coat and a black long-sleeved shirt with a red hammer and sickle on the breast pocket. On his head was a black officer's cap with a red pentagonal star with the hammer and sickle perched at the center. His trousers were olive green with red piping down the sides of each leg, tucked into tall black jackboots. At his side was a saber with a black bell guard sheathed in a silver scabbard. He looked at the soldiers and Holland and Talho, leering menacingly as if he was about to kill them all in one fell swoop. Holland and Talho knew they would have to deal with this man themselves, and whispered in Dominic's ear,

"We'll deal with this." Dominic nodded and turned to First Sergeant Seizo.

"Seizo, take half of Dog Company and go the long way. We'll take the shortcut." Seizo nodded and they both turned to Dog Company. "First second and third platoons with me."

"The rest of you, follow me."

The company of soldiers separated and left the three duelists alone. Debretskoy reached for his saber and slowly unsheathed it, showing its blade tinted blood red. Holland and Talho quickly pulled their swords from their gold scabbards and the duel began.

Debretskoy ran forward and Talho struck at his head only to be parried by Debretskoy. She circled behind him and lunged at him, but Debretskoy denied her the pleasure of a quick victory. Debretskoy moved forward, striking at Holland first to his leg then his head. Both moves were blocked and Talho tried again to slash him across the abdomen but Debretskoy parried her as the momentum shifted and Debretskoy went back. They were at the foot of the stairs and the momentum came to a standstill. The young married couple struck multiple hits at Debretskoy but all were blocked, and Debretskoy kicked Holland across the legs, tripping him. Debretskoy walked back up the stairs grimacing maliciously at Talho. Talho twirled her saber around in her hand before striking at him again at his leg. Debretskoy parried it and Talho struck at his other leg, only to have Debretskoy block it again and force their sabers down. Holland quickly came to her aid and struck at his head but Debretskoy parried his attack as he did Talho's when she tried to strike at his head. Holland struck at his lower leg but he was denied the possible fruits of success by his enemy. Debretskoy kicked Talho out of the way and reached a large staircase landing, Holland closely following him. Holland struck at Debretskoy once more and went for his leg then his head. Both attacks were deflected and Holland turned a turned a full revolution before going at his head again. Debretskoy blocked it and threw him against the stair railing. Talho rushed up to the landing and Debretskoy's saber and hers clashed before Talho rotated 180 degrees and struck at the back of his leg only to be denied the pleasure. Holland came to her aid once more and struck at Debretskoy's head only to be dodged by his red blade. Debretskoy attacked furiously at the both of them in a flurry of thrusts and lunges as he turned a full revolution on his feet.

He threw them all back and moved backward to the next flight of stairs. The three duelists stared down at each other as all waited for the next move. Debretskoy cracked a menacing smile, showing his slightly yellow teeth, adding to his intimidating guise. Debretskoy found no maliciousness in either of them; rather he found both were at peace and calmly waiting.

_How strange that these two don't use their anger and hate to defeat me. _

Holland stepped forward and struck at him, only to have Debretskoy deflect his attack. Debretskoy did a back-flip to a stair step slightly higher on up. Holland and Talho went up the stairs and Talho struck at Debretskoy, but he parried it and their eyes were locked on each other as were their sabers.

»»»»»

Meanwhile, while Holland and Talho were in a life-or-death duel with Debretskoy, Dominic and Anemone led one half of Dog Company into a large hallway lined with tall marble pillars on the first floor. Soon there came the rifle fire of the SOF, hiding behind the pillars further down the hall. Dominic, Anemone and the rest of the company took cover behind the pillars returning fire at their enemies. The battle soon turned into a stalemate as each could only score a hit if one of their opponents stepped out from their cover and fired. The platoon of SOF guards was cautious and stayed behind their cover, only occasionally coming out and giving fire. Dominic and Anemone looked to each other, knowing this was getting them nowhere.

"WE DON'T HAVE THE TIME FOR THIS!"

Dominic and Anemone emerged from their cover and charged the Reds. The company knew they would be killed if they went out by themselves and followed their commander and his wife. They rammed into the Reds and a melee ensued. Each man found a partner and sparred with them until one went down. When they had guns, they used their bayonets or used the guns as clubs. When they had no guns, they used their bare fists. When they didn't have that, they simply bit the other on the nose or the neck, the beast that resided within all seeping out and emerging. Soon the enemy platoon was annihilated and Dominic and Anemone ordered the company to keep moving.

"This ain't any special tour! We got Red officers to find!"

»»»»»

Back on the stairs, Debretskoy was fighting the two duelists fiercely on a long walkway toward another flight of stairs. He blocked Holland's attack to his sternum and leg, then Talho's attempt to hit him in the back. Holland's and Debretskoy's sabers crossed and Debretskoy threw him against the wall before turning on Talho. She went for his thigh but was parried by Debretskoy who then kicked Talho in the face, sending her flying across the walkway and halfway down the flight of stairs. Holland, enraged by this underhanded move, stepped on Debretskoy's foot and threw him across the walkway and down the stairs. Holland went after Debretskoy and found him 10 feet in front of Talho who was beginning to get up again. He looked down on Debretskoy ready to kill him and end the thing but Debretskoy kicked him in the face and jumped to his feet. The duel started anew between these two men as Holland was backed up the stairs. Talho regained her senses and got up, running up the stairs to Holland's aid. Holland blocked Debretskoy's moves on his chest head and leg. Debretskoy swung his saber at his head but Holland quickly ducked, and their sabers clashed once more.

Talho was thrown back by another kick to the head as soon as she rejoined the duel, thrown back across the walkway. Holland and Debretskoy circled each other, changing position. Talho quickly ran back to Holland's side and rejoined the fight, forcing Debretskoy back up the next set of stairs. Talho knew better now than to try and get behind Debretskoy. Debretskoy fought them fiercely as he retreated up the stairs, their sabers clashing in a bout of lunges, thrusts, parries, ripostes and double-ripostes. As they reached a long landing, their sabers crossed each other at an axis and Talho struck a blow across their enemy's lower legs, but Debretskoy jumped to avoid it. They stepped onto the landing and the tempo of fighting picked up, attacks and counterattacks coming with more intensity and frequency. Their sabers crossed each other once more and they quickly broke apart, staring at the other.

»»»»»

Dominic Anemone and his half of Dog Company ran down a long hallway on the third floor, waiting for any Reds that crossed their path. But in the back of Dominic's mind was the vexing question:

_Where in the world was Seizo?_

They soon came to another set of doors, but from either side of them a platoon of SOF troops ran down a long hallway firing at them. Dominic issued an order to split his force and wait for Seizo to come up with the rest of Dog Company. Sergeant First Class Hancock and Master Sergeant John Philips' platoons covered the left hallway and Staff Sergeant Jack Susan's platoon covered the right. They would have to hold here until Seizo came up. The Reds took cover behind the marble pillars as did the Army regulars, and exchanged fire, scoring small victories with each man they shot down. Anemone and Dominic went down the line firing with the men, and shouting words of encouragement to them.

"Good shot, Private Johnson!"

"Steady boys, steady."

"Keep up your fire, boys! Keep up your fire!"

Inside their heads, they were screaming, "WHERE THE HELL IS SEIZO!?!?!"

The fight went on for what seemed like an eternity, as each man took potshots at their enemies. The men who were foolish enough to emerge from their cover were quickly shot down with a red flash of blood and a cloud of dust on their uniforms. There always followed a scream of pain as each man fell and the monotonous moans for help. Nothing was done but load and fire. The wounded must take care of themselves. Any man who was able to hold a rifle had to take their place in the firing line. As the men of Dog Company thought they would be pinned down all day, down each hallway came Easy and Fox Company, taking the SOF platoons from the rear. Dominic smiled in relief as the men cheered to see their reinforcements.

"It's about goddamn time you two showed up!" Dominic and Anemone yelled to them angrily. The two officers laughed.

"Yeah well some Reds were holding us up. We're okay now." Dominic looked down the hall from whence he came and yelled in exasperation,

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SEIZO!?!?"

"Coming, Lieutenant!" said a familiar voice. Dominic and Anemone looked down the hall and saw Seizo coming with the other half of Dog Company. The men of Dominic's section whooped and hollered at the sight of Seizo, but Dominic and Anemone only scowled.

"WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!?! ON A PICNIC!?" Seizo smiled.

"I ran into a little trouble. You won't believe how many Reds we had to deal with."

"I can imagine," Dominic said scowling. "Enough chit-chat, men! Let's move it outta here! We got a battle to win!"

»»»»»

The three duelists had been fighting their way up the stairs until they came to the very top. Holland was becoming exhausted but he fought on, swearing to defeat this enemy that had caused so much pain and suffering to the people of Ciudades Del Cielo.

Holland struck again at Debretskoy, but Debretskoy forced down their sabers and kicked Talho in the chest, sending her flying across the walkway, leaving Holland to fight alone. Holland hit at Debretskoy's head, but he quickly parried it and struck at his leg. Holland blocked it and Debretskoy twirled his saber before parrying another attack. They fought their way into a circular observation room with a view of the floors below. As Talho got up and ran to Holland, Holland struck again at Debretskoy's chest and leg, but Debretskoy denied him the satisfaction of killing him. He counterattacked with a lunge to his sternum but Holland parried and riposted to the leg, only to be warded off once more. Debretskoy forced their sabers down and they quickly broke apart. Debretskoy twirled his saber again with a manner of conceit and arrogance. Debretskoy struck at Holland's leg and head but Holland deflected the attacks and tried to strike at his back which was exposed. Debretskoy sidestepped and he forced their sabers up and away. They broke apart and stared at each other for a few seconds. Debretskoy smiled maniacally and struck at him again twice. Talho came closer and closer to Holland and just as she was about rejoin him at his side, Debretskoy kicked Holland in the head, dazing him and leaving him open to his attacks on his shoulder, and leg, drawing blood at last. Holland, weak and wounded, was punched in the face by Debretskoy and hit the wall, falling to the ground unconscious.

"HOLLAND, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

Debretskoy turned on her and smiled sinisterly, his eyes wide and giving him the appearance a madman. They stared at each other, and for a moment, the hatred and rage rose within Talho for this despicable man for striking down her husband. She reached down into her heart and found something more powerful than hate. She found the one thing that gave her the strength she possessed.

Love.

She brought her saber to the ready position and charged at Debretskoy, striking at him fiercely, strengthened by the powerful bond she and Holland shared. She threw a blow at his leg then his head, both of which were deflected by Debretskoy. This man was good. Very good. Debretskoy swung his saber at her head but Talho ducked and blocked two more swings at her head. Undaunted, Debretskoy forced her back with attacks to her legs and sternum. Talho fought back four attempts at slicing her thighs and the two duelists broke apart, spinning on their feet. Debretskoy twirled his saber and struck at her chest twice, then her legs. She jumped to avoid the blade and fought back with a short burst of attacks. Their sabers locked and each stared at their enemies before Talho forced down their sabers and kicked Debretskoy in the chest, throwing him against the wall. Debretskoy jumped to his feet and narrowly avoided Talho's saber which came down on him. Their sabers clashed once more in a flurry of attacks and parries before Debretskoy kicked her in the face. Talho did a back-flip and Debretskoy circled her, gesturing her to come.

_You will fall, pretty one._

Debretskoy came at her again and attacked her ferociously, Talho trying to keep up. Talho tried striking at his shoulder but Debretskoy blocked her. Talho forced him back with two more lunges and their sabers clashed once more, looking into each other's eyes and seeing the inner feelings of their enemy. In Debretskoy, anger, bloodlust and hatred. In Talho, love and compassion for her stricken husband. Debretskoy leered at her threw her back against a railing covering the circular hole looking over the bottom floor of the town hall. She lost her grip on her saber and Debretskoy kicked it over the side, listening to the "clang" of it hitting the bottom floor. It was a long, long way down. Debretskoy smiled in triumph as he raised his saber over his head, ready to strike the final blow. Talho diverted her eyes and spied Holland's saber near him, still lying on the ground unconscious. Suddenly, she had an idea.

Debretskoy brought his saber down and Talho quickly averted it. In a lightning flash, she ran for Holland's saber and charged at Debretskoy, taking him by surprise and slashing across his abdomen. Debretskoy's eyes widened as he groaned and fell to the floor, dead. Talho stood over his dead body and picked up Debretskoy's red saber, sliding it into its scabbard and clipping it onto her belt. She went to Holland, bleeding from his nose, shoulder and legs, and placed his head in her lap, whispering in his ear as he slowly regained consciousness.

"Is it…over?" he asked weakly.

"Da, lubov. It's over. He's dead." Holland groaned as he breathed slowly.

"Thank…God. I didn't think I would survive that one."

"We can survive anything, dear, because I love you."

"And I you."

They kissed slowly as Dominic and Anemone ran into the room, coming to them with urgent news. When they found them in the kiss they were in, they turned away, waiting for them to finish. Talho and Holland looked up and found their two friends.

"Hello, Dominic, Anemone," Holland and Talho said together.

"Hello, you two."

"What's the news?"

"Well, we thought we should just tell you that we captured Debretskoy's posse and they've surrendered along with all remaining SOF troops. All we have to do now is find Debretskoy and tell him the bad news."

"You needn't look any further." Holland weakly pointed to the dead black-clad body on the floor away from them. "There he is." Dominic and Anemone looked and found the man who was in charge dead. Both were a little in shock.

"Oh…well…ah…um…soooo…he's dead. Good work, you two. The fight's over. Ciudades Del Cielo is back in American hands."

"Dominic," Talho said with concern, "could call for first aid? We have a man wounded here."

"Sure thing, Talho. We'll get right on it."

Dominic and Anemone left and Holland whispered, "We won. Thanks be to God."

Talho kissed him again as the sound of church bells and cheers in the streets filled the air and rang in their ears. The fight here was over. It was a hard-fought battle, but they had won. They were one step closer to bringing peace and justice back to their republic.

* * *

A/N: Another victory for GekkoState! Dewey is robbed of his elite force and the UBF is getting owned big-time. Also, Holland and Talho pwn all! LOL Here's the preview of the next chapter: 

_The massacred city is freed, and the city of the Poles soon falls in its stead. Now the armies of the beast retreat into the hills to recover from the devastating defeats. The soldier and his wife's love awakens, as all try to get a well-deserved rest._

**Next time: Restful Thinking**


	27. Chapter 27: Restful Thinking

**Chapter Twenty-seven: Restful Thinking**

**March 17****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere in northern Marin County, California**

The Polish immigrant town of Porbayevsk was liberated about a week after Ciudades Del Cielo fell and Dewey was badly crippled. At the start of this whole thing back in October, he was in command of an army of 4500 men. By now, it had been cut down to a little under 3000. The only hope Dewey had for recovering his former strength was to retreat into the hills and lay low, try to gain new recruits, which thanks to the help of the organizations were plentiful where he was going. In the area in which he now took shelter, the population was very left-leaning and many had Soviet sympathies. However, he now realized that the most he could do concerning GekkoState was to keep prolonging the conflict until the people of the United States grew tired and called for peace.

Doing that would be difficult…

Hans Ziebach, the head of GekkoState Public Relations and the chief journalist of RayOut kept support for GekkoState high with his brilliant articles with the same profound captivating message: it should never matter what the consequences are. What is important is to do the right thing. If Jacob "Stoner" Mason had survived the campaign in France, he would have been a great writer for RayOut. He certainly believed enough before he died.

Winston Churchill, the former Prime Minister of Great Britain and one of the few men who warned Western Civilization of the growing threat of Nazi Germany, spoke 12 days ago at Westminster College in Missouri, saying to the world that what Renton had prophesied long before this fiasco began. What Renton said was true. Europe was divided on a fault line between slavery and freedom.

"_From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic an 'iron curtain' has descended across the Continent. Behind that line lie all the capitals of the ancient states of Central and Eastern Europe. Warsaw, Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Belgrade, Bucharest and Sofia; all these famous cities and the populations around them lie in what I must call the Soviet sphere, and all are subject, in one form or another, not only to Soviet influence but to a very high and in some cases increasing measure of control from Moscow."_

The reaction to the speech was one of condemnation. Most in the nation still considered the Soviet Union their ally, especially in light of the defeat of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan in the last war, and many considered socialism beneficial to civilization. History was repeating itself. Civilization responded the way civilization always has: by trying to wish it away, hoping the wolf would pass by the door. Peace movements, speeches, petitions, demonstrations all tried to ward off the beast. And all who called out the beast, naming it for what it really was, were vilified and labeled paranoid, reactionary, warmongers.

Such was not the opinion of those who had heard Renton's words, however. Ever since the Soviet incursion, they knew of what would happen if the Soviet Union was allowed to continue with its ruthless policy of expansionism. All turned to GekkoState, hoping, knowing they would have the power to strike down the invaders and drive them off, sending them back to Moscow where they belonged.

GekkoState had received reinforcements from the militias of Del Cielo and Porbayevsk, and Renton was now in command of an army of 5,500 healthy well-equipped veteran soldiers, more than capable of whipping any Soviet force that opposed them. It might take them a day, it might take them a week, it might take them a month, it might take them a year, but they knew in their hearts this Soviet incursion would ultimately fail. The will of free people is more powerful than all the weapons in the world.

GekkoState had marched down the road and decided to lay low and wait for the enemy to make a move. Now GekkoState headquarters was located at an abandoned farmhouse, reduced to casual scouting and spying. No fighting, no grand assaults, no duels. For once all was quiet along the front.

Or so it was with most…

Renton had been having these strange dreams lately. He would find himself on a circular platform of stained glass like a church window, filled with images of himself and his friends, dead and alive, holding a saber with a gold bell guard. He would find himself dueling with a tall figure in a black cloak, a hood draped over the figure's head. The opponent would fight him fiercely until Renton awoke.

Sometimes he could recognize the figure's voice. The face behind the hood was only sometimes revealed. Last night, the face was one more terrible than any.

_Renton, dressed in his red and white sweatshirt and olive green shorts, drew his saber and pointed it at the mysterious duelist, clad in black. He looked to be a dark monk. _

"_Who are you?" Renton demanded. The figure laughed as he drew a saber with a black blade._

"_Someone you know. Someone from the darkness." The figure charged him and their sabers clashed, as they stared at each other. Renton could see nothing but darkness under that hood. Who was this duelist? Why did he keep seeing him? Why did this duelist keep coming back? They broke apart and stared at each other. Renton was getting more and more restless._

"_Who are you?! Who are you?!? Tell me now!" The duelist twirled his saber around and said nothing. "Did Dewey send you to kill me?! Answer me!!! Did he?!" _

_The duelist charged him dragging the black saber. He slashed at Renton but Renton jumped back to avoid the blade. Renton tired to slice at his abdomen but the duelist parried and went for his head. Renton denied him the pleasure and forced the sabers down. The duelist jumped up in the air and out of the gridlock. He twirled his saber around and came at Renton once more but Renton jumped high into the air, the lessons from gymnastics serving him well. He was high in the air above the duelist who jumped up after him. Renton back-flipped in mid air their sabers clashed once more before Renton landed firmly on his feet. The duelist charged him again and went for Renton's head. Renton blocked the attack and the duelist hit Renton's saber repeatedly, weakening an already tired Renton who couldn't hold on any longer. _

"_Who are you?! Why do you keep coming?!" He then heard a familiar laugh and for a few seconds the face under the hood was revealed._

_Chertov._

"_What?! You again?!?" Renton cried out, his eyes wide. "NO! YOU'RE DEAD! I KILLED YOU!" The face quickly disappeared and another familiar laugh took the place of the first. The face was revealed again, shocking Renton far more so than the first._

_Jane._

"_JANE! YOU!!" The face disappeared and the two laughs synched together as one. "WHICH ONE ARE YOU?!? TELL ME NOW, DAMN YOU!"_

"_I am neither, and I am both at once."_

_The duelist knocked Renton's saber out of his hand and cast it aside as Renton fell to his knees. He looked to the saber and quickly ran to it but the duelist got in front of the saber and pointed his black blade at Renton, down on his knees. _

"_Who the hell…are you?"_

_Renton curled his hand into a fist and shook it at himself as another laugh came about. One he hoped he would never hear again. He looked up and found Dewey to be the one under the hood, laughing at him, staring in derision at him with his icy blue eyes, grey hair wrapped in a ponytail, pearly white teeth shining as he laughed maniacally. Renton cupped his ears as the laughs of Chertov and Jane cackled in and soon joined a chorus and tormented him. He didn't want to think about them. He didn't want to think about the ones that betrayed him, the ones that lusted to kill him, the ones that would have no greater pleasure than seeing his country and his way of life destroyed. He turned on the smooth glass floor and tripped the duelist, throwing him to the floor. He grabbed his saber and as the duelist got up to his feet, Renton made a vertical slash across his chest, the blood now pouring down Renton's blade. The duelist, face covered by darkness, dropped the saber and fell to the ground on his back revealing the face at last. Renton looked in shock at who it was…_

_Himself._

_He fell to the ground and cried as the trio of voices laughed at him for taking part in a duel which resulted in his own destruction. _

He woke up. Eureka opened her eyes quickly and see Renton panting, his eyes wide. "What's wrong, darling?"

"A dream. It was a nightmare. Scared me to death."

She crept closer to him. "Tell me."

"Well, I was in this duel with some hooded person, but I couldn't see their face. I had no idea what they were fighting me for."

Eureka sat up in bed, wide-eyed, and absolutely struck dumbfounded. "A hooded person?"

"Yes darling. They wouldn't tell me who they were."

"They?"

"Yes. I was hearing about two or three different voices."

"How is that possible? I thought you said it was just one person."

"It was, but it had multiple faces when it finally identified itself."

"Who were the faces?" Renton looked at her in her innocent grey eyes, wanting not to scare her.

"Well, it first started off with Chertov, who we just defeated."

Eureka's eyes widened at the mention of the name. "Chertov?! How is that possible!? I thought he was dead! He fell over the side and hit the street!"

"I KNOW THAT! But still, he was there..."

Eureka placed her delicate hand on his trembling shoulder and her eyes glistened in the dark night. "Who came after Chertov?"

"Jane." he replied solemnly, almost scared to mention that name in front of his one true love. "Jane Hart."

Eureka's mouth dropped at the mention of that name, the name of the one who lusted for Renton and betrayed GekkoState, manipulated by the spy Bagarov. "Is she back? Has she been following us and we didn't know it?"

"No love, I don't think so. I think she's still recovering at home. She's refused to leave her house since that one fateful day."

"I see. Go on..."

"Well, after a little bit longer, it was Dewey, your older brother."

She gasped and cupped her mouth when she heard the name of her power-hungry eldest brother. "What?! Dewey?! Dewey...but...how is it...is he coming to kill us himself?"

"I wish I knew. I wish I knew. But right now, I can't say anything. Because my love, I don't know."

Eureka pressed him close to her, trying to calm him down. "It doesn't matter to me, Renton. Brother is a nothing but a bully and a coward. He will run and hide just as he always did."

"Well, that wasn't what scared me the most."

"W-what was it that scared you?"

"After I had won the battle, there was one last face on my enemy, and that's what woke me up."

"Who was it, Renton?"

"I don't know why, but the last face…was me."

Eureka broke away, and her eyes widened. She was more frightened and confused than ever. "You? But..."

"I don't know why hon, so don't ask. Believe me, it scared me to death, more so than it does you."

Renton slid down onto his pillow and breathed heavily staring up at the ceiling. Eureka shook her head, not wanting to believe what she thought he was saying. "Renton...Renton..."

"Yes love?"

"I...I...I'm...I'm afraid."

"To tell you the truth, so am I. I never thought I'd be this scared though to tell you the truth." Eureka next said something Renton had taught her a long time ago.

"'The truth is something we can't hide from. If we avert our eyes from it, we remain nothing more than puppets on strings.'"

"That is true Eureka. But I wish I knew why my face showed up on that body. Maybe it's time I pulled out of this whole thing and just be a family man."

Eureka lifted him up and looked him in the eyes. "Renton, you can't give up now. Everyone is counting on us. You're the only one that can lead us. If you go...I don't know what will happen."

"Yeah, but..."

"Renton, in my years of knowing you, you've become a greater leader than even brother Holland could hope. Things will return back to normal after this stupid thing is done, but right now our republic needs you...and I need you."

"Love, I'm always here for you. Nothing will ever change that. But I'm getting on, and this whole conflict is starting to drain me. I just figured it was time for me to settle down and raise our family together, out of this whole thing. I can always appoint Dominic or Holland to take over."

"Love, no one is better fit to lead than you. No one can command like you do. Please Renton...stay. If not for anything, for our future life together. For our child. Think about our child, love. Please don't do this. Renton, we've been through scarier things than this. We can tackle this together just as always."

"I am thinking of our child love. I just don't know if I can handle it mentally anymore. The strain is almost too much to handle sometimes."

"Renton...I won't let you do it."

"You really believe in me that much?"

"Of course I do, darling. We've been through so much together since you came back into my life, and whatever challenge we have ever faced, we have always come out on top and surprised everyone. Because I love you, Renton. We'll get through this together, and no other way."

"Are you sure, love? That's a pretty big commitment you're talking about."

"I've never been surer. I've believed in you all along, and I will always have faith in you, my Renton. Because I love you. We'll get through this always, Renton. Because together we can do anything."

"Alright, I'll try to stick through it to the end my love, if not for you, then for you and our child. But promise me one thing."

"Anything, darling."

"Promise me that you'll always be there to help me and console me when I need you. Promise that you'll always be at my side."

"You don't have to ask, Renton. I'll be beside you always."

"Thank you love. Listen, we'd had better get back to bed then. I can't have my pregnant wife not getting any sleep. It might upset the little one." He laughed gently as he held her tight in his arms.

"Are you alright, now, Renton?" she said gently, smiling.

"I think I'll survive," he replied as he gently brushed her face with his hand.

"We'll get through this as always, love. Never forget it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight dear," he said gently as he ran his fingers down her side, tickling her ever so slightly. She giggled as they closed their eyes once more, and the next dream that came to both their minds, was one that banished that last one forever.

»»»»»

Renton walked around the small village alone later that morning, letting Eureka sleep. Dominic and Anemone were in their officer's quarters with the Army while Holland and Talho had gone out to have coffee. It was a very small village, the center of which lay on a main street with houses scattered around the outside. The only businesses that could be found were coffee shops a food market and two book stores. The village was anchored by a square at the center of town, where a tall marble pillar with a statue resided. He would often find people sitting on benches, children laughing and playing. The atmosphere he found there today was one slightly different from the usual calm and relaxing.

Hans Ziebach and the writers for RayOut were showering the village square with copies of RayOut's latest issue from the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, and the villagers looked about them in bewilderment and quickly picked up any pamphlet they found near them. The men who wrote and directed RayOut were mostly former reporters from the Marin Independent Journal or the San Francisco Chronicle who had resigned their jobs due to their controversial articles questioning the Soviet Union as a reliable and trustworthy ally before and during the war. There were a few in the ranks of GekkoState who wrote for RayOut and had their articles published; even Renton contributed on occasion. Issues were published once every week and would be taken from all the articles written that week. Of course one had to keep the magazine to pamphlet limit and so Ziebach had to do much editing and choosing which article was the best to include in the given week's issue. When it came to showering a village with pamphlets, this was a common tactic meant to persuade, since "the truth always shines down from God on high," as Ziebach often put it. Anyone who saw pamphlets reigning down from the sky would be more than motivated to pick up a copy and read it.

Renton walked to the center of the town square, dressed in his usual grey drab trench coat, black oxford shoes, black socks, grey knickerbockers and white dress shirt. He looked down and picked up a copy of RayOut. When he looked on the cover, there were words printed in black bold cursive letters:

**IT IS TIME TO WAKE UP!**

**IT IS TIME TO FACE THE TRUTH!**

He turned to a random page and found a long reflective article written by Hans Ziebach himself. It was profound and philosophical, as everything was with Ziebach, a highly educated man…

_I've lived my life as a newspaper reporter, but those days are over. I uncovered the truth and wrote my articles. But then I learned, all too well, that a mere reporter such as I can't ever get to the truth in this world... it's all but impossible. And it's unsure! No one here is even interested in learning and accepting the truth, a truth that must be known. _

_But I want to know! I want to learn what must be known!_

_Even without the events of the Russian Revolution of almost 30 years ago or the last world war, I think Man would still be a creature that fears the dark. He doesn't face that fear; he averts his eyes from it, and acts as if he never had any memories of his history. But 30 years can be both a short time and yet a long time. Man's fear has faded and even Time tries to weaken the drive to know and face the truth. _

_Is it a crime to try and face the truth? Is it a sin to face those things which you fear? _

_Power…those who seek it out become obsessed with the grand illusion that they are somehow able to control this world, this tiny, miniscule world! What this conflict depicts is what could become the final days of mankind if something is not done soon, and depicts the foolish arrogant men who use the destructive power of God. What this conflict represents is the failure to act, the failure to stand by one's convictions and the failure to listen to those who warn of an evil rapidly gathering, as Churchill warned the Western world recently at a talk at Westminster College in Missouri. The foolish ones who call him a warmonger fail to understand the true nature and intent of the Soviet Union._

_We all have purposes in God's world. My purpose in this world as a reporter is knowledge and the distribution of it. GekkoState's purpose is the safety of this republic and the defense of it and it is we, the ones who stand up when no one else has the courage, who are to restore the fruits of our labors to the nation, nay the entire world! _

_Fear. It is something vital to us frail creatures. The instance Man stops fearing is the instance the species will reach a dead end, only to sink to pitiable lows, only to sit and wait apathetically for its extinction!_

_WAKE UP! Don't be afraid of the ones who stand against us! Don't be afraid of the truth! Don't be afraid of knowledge! _

_Humans who lose the capacity to think become creatures whose existence has no value. Think, you citizens of the world who are split into two camps! Unless you want the chasm between humans to expand into oblivion, you must THINK! _

_Signed, _

_Hans Ziebach_

_Chief journalist and editor of RayOut_

_GekkoState_

Renton smiled chuckled and whispered a name affectionately.

"Ziebach…"

The German immigrant knew how to write well. The widespread support GekkoState had would not be possible had it not been for his power of language and his brilliant insightful articles. GekkoState would be nowhere near the position it is in now had it not been for the support garnered thanks to him.

_I ought to find him and give him my thanks._

He looked up to the rooftops trying to find the brilliant writer. He soon spotted three figures on the top of an apartment building looking on at the village people below. One man in the center stood out as the tallest, wearing a trench coat flapping the high wind. Renton smiled. He recognized that shadow anywhere. He walked over to the apartment building and took the stairs to the observation level. He found the three figures on the railing of the observation level, looking out on the people of the village now reading and learning the truth reigning down from God on high.

The tallest stood in the center, with short dark hair and wearing black slacks and a light brown trench coat, his arms extended outward as if flying on to the heavens where God waited high above He looked to be in his mid or late twenties. Next to center figure were two young-looking people, not 19 at the most. One on the right had auburn hair and glasses, wearing a blue long-sleeve shirt and matching loose-fitting white slacks, looking out with a sense of patience and serenity, at least that was what Renton gathered from just looking at the back of them. The one on the center figure's left had scraggly tangled brown hair and wore a long-sleeve yellow dress shirt and white khakis, looking with arms crossed and with a sense of enjoyment of seeing the word spread, albeit this was a rather unorthodox way of spreading the truth. Just then the center figure spoke, with a thick German accent.

"Think, you citizens of the world who are split into two camps! Unless you want the chasm between humans to expand into oblivion, you must THINK!" Renton smiled, knowing he had found the brilliant writer.

"How go the…sales, Mr. Ziebach?" The center figure turned along with the two others (Doggie and Matthieu) and found their commander, dressed in his usual "uniform." The center figure, Ziebach, wearing a brown vest green tie and white dress shirt under the trench coat smiled at the sight of the "Kommandant" and spoke in his usual distinctly German manner.

"Sehr gut! Sehr gut, Herr Kommandant!" (A/N: German for "Very good! Very good, Herr Commander.")

"Splendid. I read your article, Mr. Ziebach, and I must say you write masterfully. I don't think even I could write an article as good as that."

"But you mustn't doubt yourself, Herr Kommandant! You wrote the best essays in our English class if you remember," Moondoggie said smiling. Ziebach turned on him.

"Herr Kommandant is my line, Herr Emerson!" he said jokingly. "I suggest you find your own."

"Save the German for when we go back to Germany, you two!" Matt said laughing. He then turned to his old friend and commander. "How'd you find us up here, leader?"

Renton laughed. Matt was always calling him "leader" nowadays. Renton tacitly put up with it, but always with a hidden twinge of annoyance.

"I could spot the brown trench coat of Mr. Ziebach anywhere. I wanted to come up to give you my thanks, Mr. Ziebach. If it hadn't been for you and all the brilliant articles you write, I don't think we would have the large amount of support we have now. I have to hand it to you, Mr. Ziebach, you are quite the writer. Dankeschön, Herr Ziebach."

"Bitteschön, Herr Kommandant. But I cannot take the credit. Had it not been for you inspiring all of us to take up the fight against these Soviets all those months ago, I would not be here right now. To be honest, I would not have joined had I not listened to what you and Herr Novakov and Herr Sorel said that night when we started. The credit should go to you." Renton blushed slightly, embarrassed by such a great compliment.

"Danke, Herr Ziebach. But even so, I was not the one who wrote the articles."

"True. You have me there, Herr Kommandant. I must thank you, for giving me the chance to take up journalism again. I would probably be stuck in my apartment had it not been for you giving me the position of Public Relations chief."

"It's official," Moondoggie said adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. "Renton, if you had not inspired us, none of us would be here right now. We really have _you_ to thank." Renton smiled at his old friend's remark.

"Thanks pal. I just thought I was doing my duty."

»»»»»

A little later in the day there was not much to do at the headquarters. Eureka sat at a front desk looking over papers while Renton paced about thinking, all the while looking enticingly at the woman he fell in love with almost three years ago. No, Renton thought. Now that I think of it, I loved her for a far longer time than that. Ever since they first met all those eight years ago, he was enchanted by her. She was his closest friend, and all the good times he ever spent were with her. Whenever he wasn't with her, in the long time before he came back, he missed her deeply. He wanted her with him. He had loved her for a long time now; it had only taken to that night when she said it to him to realize it. He smiled, his heart aching to have the time of peace and serenity they once had before this whole bloody mess. Even on an off-day when there are enemies trying to conquer them, one can still find ways to have fun. He spoke to her enticingly

"You know, as your boss, I shouldn't be asking you what you're doing tonight, but uhhh...What're you doing tonight?" Eureka looked up and laughed. She knew what game he was playing and she was happy to go along with it, because she loved him.

"I shouldn't be talking with you like this, Commander. What if my husband came in right now and saw me?"

"Well, he'd have to put up one heck of a fight with me to take you away. And I'd make sure I was the winner."

"He's tougher than you think. He was a hero in the war, if you remember..."

"Doesn't matter. Love wins all and I've got more than he could ever give."

"Name one, Commander."

"Name what?"

"What you have that he doesn't..." She giggled enticingly

"I'll show you," he replied right before he gave her a long, soft, passionate kiss. She closed her eyes and enjoyed this kiss she was sharing with him, this thing they had not done in so long. She broke away after a while smiling.

"Oh, dear. If my husband saw you right now he'd give you the pounding of your life."

"What does he do for a living?"

"Paramilitary. He works in GekkoState."

"Hmm, sounds like he'd give me quite the challenge."

"More than your battle plans can, Commander." She kissed him passionately

"We'll see about that," he replied out of breath as they broke away. "I can put up quite a fight myself. I don't give up on things I want."

"Neither does he, and neither do I." The love and want for him reaching its high point, she pulled him by the shirt collar and kissed him again. "I love you Renton."

"Ya tebya lublu, milaya." (A/N: Russian for: I love you, darling.) "I feel like we haven't been together for a lifetime, the way things have been."

"I've felt it too. There's been no peace for us lately. But I know we can reclaim our old lives, darling, because I love you. With all my heart. Nothing that will happen will ever change that."

"I believe that darling, because I love you. That alone will be enough to get us through this mess. Everything will get better as time goes by. You know why?"

"Tell me." He gave her a soft kiss as he began to unbutton her blouse and heighten her senses. Eureka giggled, as slowly her hands began to work their way under her 19-year-old husband's dress shirt.

"What cunning plan do you have up your sleeve _this_ time, Commander?"

"None at all. I'm only enjoying my time with my wife. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Certainly not." She slowly removed her blouse, exposing her brassiere to his vision. "Is this what the objective of your latest plan is?"

"How'd you know, Mrs. Thurston?"

"I have my ways, Commander. But let's go somewhere where no one will see us." They stood up and walked to their quarters hand in hand, being sure to leave no trace of the flirting they had done in the office. Renton closed the door and turned to his darling wife, smiling as she let her blue and white dress fall to the floor, fully exposing her half-naked body. "Now make love to me, you darling fool."

»»»»»

Anemone was outside Dominic's personal quarters in a nearby farmhouse being used as an officer's quarters. She was extremely nervous, sweat pouring down her neck and soaking her dress collar. She had decided the time had come to start a family. Dominic and she at first agreed to wait until after her graduation, but now that she was allowed to travel with GekkoState, times had changed. She couldn't stand the waiting any longer; it was practically suffocating her. She was not the kind who liked waiting around. She was ready now to start a family with the man she loved, and she didn't want to wait around; she knew moments such as these could be gone in an instant. She put her trembling hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, walking inside and finding Dominic in full dress uniform sitting in a chair. He looked up at his wife and smiled.

"Hello, Anemone."

"Hi dear. What are you doing?"

"I was just sitting here thinking about you." He laughed and leans in his seat, tilting his garrison cover.

"I see. Listen, can we talk for a minute?" She looked at him nervously, almost afraid.

He sat up, obviously concerned. "Sure, hon. What's troubling you?"

"Well, it's about us." She trembled somewhat nervously as she sits down on the office sofa.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ahh…" She braced herself and forced the words out, wanting to get the idea out in the open now. "…I want to start a family. Please don't be mad. I just feel like its time."

His eyes widened, slightly taken aback. "Anemone, I'm not mad, but do you remember that talk we had about waiting until you were out of school?"

"Yes I know. But the school let me out to be with you out here on the road as long as I kept my school work up. Well, now, I want to try to start a family with the man I love so much." Dominic hunched over and looked at his wife with a serious brooding look on his face, being the pragmatist he always was.

"Anemone...what I'm concerned about is that if we actually _do_ go through with it, and if people find out...well, you and I know how harsh people can be about things like this."

"Well I don't care what they think. If I can't be accepted for who I am and not for my looks, then that's their problem."

"That's a big step, Anemone, all the same. If we have the child while the fighting is still going on, what do we do?"

"Be a family, Dom. What else would we do? If Renton and Eureka are able to do it, why not us?"

"That's true, but the chief and she have been planning that for a while, and we've only just taken up the idea."

"I haven't. I've been thinking about this for a while now. I just never mentioned anything until now."

"How long exactly? Since we went to France together? Since we got married in Caen? Since this whole disaster started?"

"Since the disaster here on our home turf."

"What made you think of it once it started?"

"I don't know. I wish I knew, Dom. But ever since Eureka got pregnant, I've felt a little…sad for some reason. Like something was missing in our lives." Dominic nodded.

"I've felt it too. And I thought what was missing was some peace and quiet. It's so hard to find nowadays."

"Well, that too." She giggled slightly. "I don't know why, but I want what Eureka has. A family."

Dominic smiled slightly at hearing that wonderful sound coming from her. "I can tell you've given this a lot of thought. Through all my years of knowing you, hon, you've been ready for anything. I wish I was the same way."

"Well, you have a lot to learn my dear, but not to worry; I know you can do it. You especially have a lot to learn when it comes to maps." She laughed as he sat there at his desk.

He sighed laughing. "I guess I'm just stupid when it comes to maps. Thank God I always let Seizo carry the map. But Anemone, I don't want us to get lost when we have this child."

"We won't Dom. You want to know why?"

"Why, hon?"

"Because if we do get lost, the love that we have for each other will guide us back onto the right path."

He got up and went to her, lightly stroking her bright red hair. "That is something I will never be able to argue. Only because it's so true."

"Yes it is," she replied with loving eyes and a caring kiss. "That's a fact that can never be argued."

"Hon, if you're ready for this, then so am I, and if I ever do lose the map and we do get lost, the love we share will guide us back on the right path again. And I sure as hell won't kick the map into the creek again!"

"You had better not." She giggled. "Because I really don't want to lose our way when our child arrives in our lives."

"We won't. Besides, I'd hate to get beat up again by Holland and the chief!"

"They wouldn't be the only ones beating you my dear husband."

"I better watch my back more closely then..." He gave her another kiss as they started to walk to the officer's cot. She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"I love you Dominic."

"I love you too, hon."

"Now, how about we try to go start that family of ours?"

"I would like nothing better."

As she lay down on the bed he closed and locked the door and drew the blinds in the windows before lying beside his wife on the cot, smiling, comfortable that even in a time when one could die any day and the fate of their republic was on the line, they could still find the time to remember what was important in this life: the ones they loved.

»»»»»

Holland and Talho had had an uneventful morning at the coffee shop and by the afternoon, they had gone down to a GekkoState cafeteria for lunch. They had not talked about much other than how much stress the other had been under ever since the organizations joined the UBF and their duel with Debretskoy that left Holland badly wounded and very irritable at times. All that was known to the both of them was that this fight was getting to them, and peace and quiet moments such as these were so rare in the dangerous times which they lived. They tried not to think about it though and enjoy the free time they had.

In the cafeteria Talho waited as Holland, wearing his usual White Army uniform and bandages wrapped around his wounds, stood in line to get lunch for the both of them. He soon reached the counter and spoke to the cafeteria worker.

"I will have the penne all'arrabiata," Holland said flatly.

"You'll need a tray," the worker said looking over Holland, not recognizing him. Holland immediately got very agitated.

"Do you know who I am?" The worker smiled.

"Do you know who _I_ am?

"This is not a game of 'who the fuck are you'. I am Novakov, Holland Novakov. General Novakov. I could kill you right now in a split-second."

"Well, you'll still need a tray," the worker said unmoved.

"No, I will not need a tray. I do not need a tray to kill you. I can kill you without a tray, with the clean polished saber at my side, which has proven itself deadly. Even though I could kill you with a tray if I so wished. For I would hack at your neck with the thin bit until the blood flowed across the cafeteria floor." The worker raised an eyebrow, not knowing what was going on.

"No, the food is hot. You'll need a tray to put the food on." Holland stood there for a moment and thought, and quickly realized what the worker meant.

"Oh, I see the food is hot. I'm sorry. I did not realize…" He laughed embarrassingly as Talho watched this scene with an amused look on her face "… Oh … tray for the … da. I'm sorry; I thought you were challenging me to a duel." The cafeteria worker scratched his head in bewilderment.

"A duel? I just…I mean…this is a cafeteria. I work here."

"Yes, I realize that, but I am Novakov. I am General Novakov? Everyone challenges me to a duel. General Novakov? Holland Novakov, I'm Holland Novakov. Sir General Novakov? Sir General Holland Novakov? General Holland Sir General, General Novakov of Cheem? Sir General Baron Von Novakov? GekkoState. I work in GekkoState." The worker was more confused than before.

"What's GekkoState?" Holland got agitated again.

"This is GekkoState! You're in GekkoState! I help run this state!"

"This is a state?"

"This is a fucking state! I help run it! I'm a GekkoState General! I am your boss." The worker looked at him with familiarity.

"You're Mr. Robbins?" Talho burst out laughing when she heard that. Holland couldn't hear her amidst all the noise and chatter.

"No, I'm … who is Mr. Robbins?"

"He's Head of Catering." Holland got red in the face, becoming increasingly agitated.

"I am not Head of Catering! I am Novakov; I can kill catering in a split-second." The worker was lost and had no idea who this man was or what was going on.

"Wha'?"

"I can kill you all! I can kill me in a split-second! Just … fine, I'll get a tray, fuck it." He went to get a tray as Talho pounded her hand on the table, laughing uncontrollably at this hilarious scene. Holland went through every tray to find a dry one. "This one's wet, and this one's wet and this one's wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet." He turned to the worker in a rage. "Did you dry these in a fucking rainforest?!? Why, by the power of God Almighty do we not have one God-forsaken tray that is fucking dry? I do not …" He soon found a dry tray and got back in the line, but a dark-haired youth cut in front of him. This got him more agitated than before. "Nyet, nyet, nyet! I was here first!"

"You have to stay in line if you want food," the youth said to Holland, not recognizing him. He turned to the cafeteria worker. "Can I have the penne all'arrabiata? That'd be very nice." Holland was desperate to get back in line and get his food.

"No, no, no! Do you know who I am?"

"That's Holland Novak, that is!" the worker said pointing at Holland, getting more exasperated.

"I am not Holland Novak, I am Holland Nova_kov_."

"What? Holland Novak works in GekkoState?" the youth asked with interest. Holland kept slipping up his words, becoming more and more flustered.

"No, Holland … no, _I_ work in GekkoState."

"You Holland Novak?"

"No, I'm Holland Nova_kov_."

"Do you know him? Could you get his autograph?" The youth pulled out a pen and notepad. Holland struggled with his words, losing control of what was happening as Talho kept on laughing.

"I can't get his … no, I'm Holland… all right, fine! I'm Holland Novak! I'm Holland Novak!

"Could I have your autograph?" Holland lost his temper, frustrated with generally everything.

"Nyet, fuck off! Or I'll kill you with a tray!" He swung his tray at the lad who stepped away laughing. Holland turned back to the cafeteria worker, then to the youth and everyone in the cafeteria who were now laughing their heads off at this amusing scene. "Give me penne all'arrabiata or you shall die! And you and you and you and you and every single fucking person in this goddamn cafeteria! It will be death by tray for all of you!" The worker hollered in delight and turned to the penne all'arrabiata.

"Do you want peas with that?" said the worker.

"Peas! You don't have peas! You can't put in right in … you can't put …it doesn't work with penne! Unless you push 'em up the penne tubes and then it'd be weird! Oh, all right! Put some peas in."

He got his food and sat back down at the table with Talho, listening to the laughter of everyone. Holland growled and blushed at the same time.

"I should have just taken the fucking tray when I had the chance…" Talho laughed and turned that curlicue smile Holland was so familiar with.

"You must try to relax a little more, General Novakov. You are too tense. Loosen up. There's not going to be any duels with officers today." Holland nodded smiling, both of them eating their penne all'arrabiata

"At least you can get my name right…Talho."

"Did you not think I would, General?"

"I never doubted you for a second, Quartermaster."

They shared a small kiss as they relaxed and enjoyed their time together, time that seemed so scarce nowadays.

»»»»»

_Let's just say if the Russian Revolution and the Second World War never happened. Man would still be a creature that fears the dark. Fear comes from not knowing. He then averts his eyes from that fear and acts like he never had memories of his existence, his history, from the very start. _

_Do you think man can survive cut off from his knowledge of the past? He, having no idea how long he's been there, or where he comes from and what he is connected to?_

The young blonde wearing a dark faded red hood and cape walked through the streets of the village, the words of that reporter, Ziebach, repeating in her head. Those words, the words that exemplified Ziebach's never-ending quest to learn and report the truth, seemed to permeate and stick to whoever heard the words. The young lonely girl, abandoned by her friends, a traitor to everyone she knew, the famous boy he past love interest. She had stayed home in Belleforest for many months recuperating from her wounds and had to live with herself after what she did, only to find out she couldn't. It was nearly impossible and so she took to the road, closely following the route of the Resistance. She never made contact with anyone, GekkoStater or Red Shirt. Whenever she was on the road, she kept her identity a secret. God forbid anyone find out she was still following Resistance and report to Renton; she would be killed in an instant. The Resistance now considered her dangerous, and any agent that was found to be a threat to the mission was eliminated. A small tear ran down her cheek as the words repeated again in her head.

_I've lived my life as a newspaper reporter, but those days are over. I uncovered the truth and wrote my articles. But then I learned, all too well, that a mere reporter such as I can't ever get to the truth in this world... it's all but impossible. And it's unsure! No one here is even interested in learning and accepting the truth, a truth that must be known. _

_But I want to know! I want to learn what must be known!_

Truth. It was so hard to define what truth way anymore, at least for her. Everything seemed muddled to her, lie becoming truth before turning back to a lie again. It was all but impossible to find the truth in this muddled confused world. She never knew what to do with herself ever since she decided to follow. She was unsure, unwilling to do anything. The most she could do was watch from the sidelines as the GekkoState Army marched on and on. All she could do was sit and watch. She had lost the boy forever. She now hated him, and that girl he chose. She hated them. She hated all of them.

"Comrade…" said a voice from behind an alleyway the girl passed by. The girl turned around and slowly walked to the alleyway from where she heard the sound.

_Power…those who seek it out become obsessed with the grand illusion that they are somehow able to control this world, this tiny, miniscule world!_

She went into the alleyway and came face to face with a blond haired girl wearing a frilly white blouse and dress.

"Who are you?" The girl in the red hood asked in a slight European accent.

"For the time being, call me Ageha A. I've come to you from the United Bolshevik Force, in hopes that you might tell me something…are you the one called Jane Hart?" The girl in the red hood paused, seemingly thinking.

"Jane Hart lives in Belleforest. She's been living there ever since the duel with Renton Thurston almost three months ago." Ageha A frowned.

"We have heard she is back and following the path of GekkoState."

"Well…I certainly never heard of anything like that." Ageha A stepped closer to the girl in the red hood.

"Do not play dumb with us. Our intelligence is flawless. We know who you are." The girl took a step back, taken to shock by the comment. "The Colonel is requesting one Comrade Jane Hart for a special mission." The girl lifted her head, revealing her blood red lips underneath that red hood. "She will be well compensated for her services." Ageha A produced from her pocket a small bag filled with coins.

"Rubles don't do much good here. Only the dollar." Ageha A shook the bag at the girl's face in a rage.

"You simple-minded fool! This bag is filled with change equal to 250 dollars!" The girl lifted up her head further, revealing smooth peachy skin. "Do you accept or reject the offer? Make your choice now." The girl thought for a moment.

_What this conflict depicts is what could become the final days of mankind if something is not done soon, and depicts the foolish arrogant humans who use the destructive power of God._

She scoffed at those words inside her head and extended her hand out, and Ageha A dropped the change into the girl's hand. Ageha A smiled as did the girl in the red hood. The red hooded girl walked with Ageha A scoffing the next words of that reporter Ziebach that came into her head.

_WAKE UP! Don't be afraid of the ones who stand against us! Don't be afraid of the truth! Don't be afraid of knowledge! _

_Shut up, Ziebach. Your words are meaningless._

Ageha A smiled and spoke to the red hooded girl.

"So glad we could do business with you…Comrade Hart."

* * *

A/N: JANE HART IS BACK…WITH A VENGEANCE!!!! I suspect a duel coming up, as Renton or Eureka for that matter can't stay in the dark for long. In fact, here is the next preview to prove it: 

_The foolish young blonde that lusted for the commander a long time ago is back, and ready to exact revenge on not just the boy but the girl as well. The beast gives the foolish young blonde a special mission, the power of darkness is unlocked from her heart and hatred and love will clash in a great duel._

**Next Time: Old Enemies**


	28. Chapter 28: Old Enemies

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Old Enemies**

**March 21****st****, 1946**

**Somewhere in the hills of northern Marin County, California  
**

The young girl in the faded red hood and cape walked down the long hallway of the agents of the Soviet Union. The hood hid her face in darkness as she walked with Ageha A to see the Colonel, the chief commander of the United Bolshevik Force. The love that ever existed in the girl's heart was gone, replaced instead with a lust for revenge, a lust for the boy's blood and the girl's. The love that once had a place in her heart was lost in a sea of blackness she was swimming in. He rejected her and she rejected him, and all the rest of them. She despised them, all of them.

Ageha A stopped and turned to the girl in the red hood.

"Wait here. The Colonel will be along in a moment." The girl nodded and was left alone. After a few short minutes, the Colonel walked in dressed in his usual Red Army uniform and faced the girl draped in her red hood and cape.

"So this is the girl that once was infatuated with Thurston?"

"Yes, Colonel."

The Colonel raised an eyebrow at the sight of the hooded girl. "Why do you wear that hood over your face? Are you hiding something?"

"I don't want to be seen or recognized. Just trying to hide from my past."

The Colonel spoke the words of Ziebach which continued to torment the girl. "Do you think man can live without any knowledge of his past? Where he is from? What he is connected to?"

"I'm not sure. He doesn't seem to hide anything."

Dewey spoke more words of torment, this time words of the boy. "You hide from your past. That is something no man can do."

"No, you can't, sir."

"I thought not. Remove your hood, girl. Let me see the face of the one that lusted for Thurston."

Slowly Jane removed her hood, showing the pain and suffering that remained on her face. The hair was still its golden blonde color, the eyes still their deep ocean blue, but the months of suffering had taken their toll, and showed in the sense of agony and pain in her countenance. "Such a shame he didn't choose you."

"Yes, I know. It's because I hesitated a little too long."

"As that boy would say, 'he who hesitates is lost.' Do you still love him?"

"Yes I do sir, but there's a hatred I carry for him also."

"I thought so. I can sense much hate in you. There is a darkness that resides within us all, Comrade Hart. Some people choose to turn away from it, but they are left weak and frail. Others tap into the dark seed that resides in the hearts of all men, and gain great power."

"Power?"

"Power. Power over anything you desire. All you have to do is tap into the seed that resides in all people's hearts."

"Tap into eh? Sounds like an interesting theory, Comrade Colonel."

"It is a part of human nature. There is that dark side to every man, even the kindest, the most generous, and most caring. No one can escape it. Some choose to resist it, but they are left weak and inferior. You already know of Thurston's dark side."

"Unfortunately, Colonel, that doesn't sound like Thurston. He's a wise old fox who only believes in his ways."

"You underestimate him my dear. Something that is part of human nature is something inescapable. He only appears to be the way he seems because he resists the temptation of tapping into the dark seed. He is weak and frail because of it."

"Weak and frail eh? He sure didn't show that when he struck me down."

"He showed weakness when he didn't kill you when he had the chance."

"He did that because he cared about me, Colonel, or at least that's what he told me."

The Colonel stepped closer. "He lies, Comrade Hart. He thinks you betrayed him, but you know very well he betrayed you. Don't forget how he turned GekkoState against you, how he sent Holland and Talho to kill your new friend Bagarov. You have not forgotten, have you?"

"No, I have not forgotten sir. GekkoState has killed many of your good men."

"Yes, but they and Thurston will pay for interfering in Soviet affairs. He always was the little upstart."

"That he is sir. So, what did you want me here for?"

"I've come to you with a proposition. Fate has not been kind to me ever since you left home for Belleforest. Thurston has scored one victory after another against me. I have gained new recruits thanks to the communist organizations and the left-leaning population around these parts, but there is one thing that is stopping me from achieving my objective of completing the Revolution here. You know what it is."

"Renton Thurston."

"Precisely. I am organizing a Special Forces group, similar to the SOF, to wreak havoc on those rebels. I want you to have a special part in their venture."

"I work alone, Comrade Colonel. I don't want any help. If anyone is to take out Thurston, it will be me for breaking my heart."

"Of course; that is the part I wanted to offer you. I want you to find Thurston and kill him..."

"Finding him will be easy, Comrade Colonel. Defeating him is another story."

"That is why I wanted to give you these tools." He produced from his pocked a small round white ball.

"What's this?"

"It is a baking powder vapor barrier. It was the brainchild of Comrade Major Debretskoy before he was killed. Should you get into trouble, just throw this on the ground, and the area will be covered in a plume of smoke, concealing your movement. You are only to use it in an emergency situation." He then produced from his other pocket a grappling hook.

"And I guess this is to be used for my getaway correct?"

"Da. Your insight serves you well. Use this grappling hook to latch on to any structure and then retract the line. You will be hoisted up and out of danger."

"I see."

"You know what to do, Comrade Hart. Don't hesitate. Do not show any mercy. If anyone gets in your way, kill them. Do what you must."

"I shall, Colonel. He will pay for betraying me."

"At last Thurston will be dead. At last GekkoState will collapse. At last we shall have revenge." He clicked his heels and gave the Bolshevik salute. "Glory to the Revolution!"

Jane just smiled, took her tools, and left the office with a new found confidence knowing that the revolution will begin with the death of Renton Thurston. The Colonel watched as she left and walked away, repeating the words that tormented him in his head...

"This must not fail!"

»»»»»

Renton had gone out for a walk-around accompanied by two guards. There was intelligence that pointed to the creation of a new enemy Special Forces group trying to wreak havoc on the GekkoState Alliance. There had already been attacks on some outlying GekkoState forces in the hills. One had to be careful in the village. One could never know where the Special Forces would strike next. In an alleyway hid a girl with a dark red hood and cape, holding a detonator with wire attached to it. Two buildings on the block Renton was traveling down had been wired with explosives given to her from the UBF. The girl, known in the UBF by her codename RED DAWN, watched as Renton and the two guards came and turned a corner, going down a long street. She watched as Renton walked on, coming closer to the two houses. She smiled, seeing the moment for her revenge approaching.

Renton continued walking along a street accompanied by his few guards when suddenly…

BOOM! BOOM!

Two buildings were detonated and killed the two guards. Renton looked around quickly to see who was there, and soon spotted a girl wearing a red hood and cape. Renton, quick on his reflexes, reacted to what was going on and tried to investigate...

"What's going on here?" he asked himself as he tends to the wounded.

"For interfering in Soviet affairs..." the young girl in the red hood whispered, "...this is the price you pay!"

"Interfering in saving America eh? What are you? One of Dewey's little minions?"

She laughed. "Someone you know. Someone from the darkness. But for the time being, you can call me RED DAWN." She then drew from behind her a saber with a black blade and bell guard. "Come Thurston. Your fall will be our ascension to victory!"

"Oh you think so?" he replied as he drew his saber. "You know what though? I think I may recognize that voice."

"Your senses fail you, young one. Enough talk. Your trifling rebellion ends here. Let's make this quick..."

"Trifling eh? Well you can tell that so called Colonel Dewey that his number is almost up!" yelled Renton as their sabers clashed. "He's on the end of his rope, his last dying breaths of his so called 'revolution'."

"You underestimate my commander's strength, Thurston. He has help from many where he is. There is much support for him and his cause where he has gone to. You may have struck crippling blows on him, but he is not finished yet."

The hooded girl forced their sabers down and threw a punch at Renton's face, casting him back a few feet.

"Ahh, giving away information are you? How stupid are ye little wench?" Renton chuckled, trying to rattle her nerves as they clashed again, sending her back with relative ease.

Undaunted, the girl's saber clashed with his, as she tried to strike his head. "So I am a wench. What is that naïve little girl you have for a wife then?"

"The most beautiful woman in the world. Truly she is not as ugly as you seem to be."

"There is much you fail to understand." In a flurry of moves, they both tried to strike down their opponent. All the while Renton kept wondering who this person was. He knew that voice from somewhere but where??

"What do you want with me anyways? I can tell you're very skilled, but obviously lack in the smarts department."

"I have come with a mission. To rid the world of all the evil and deception that permeates every last part of it. To do away with those who seek aggrandizement and power. To make way for the new Red Dawn."

"Red Dawn eh? Sounds like another cheesy plan."

"You best watch your mouth little one. My comrades and I don't have to take that from a stray capitalist dog like you!"

Their sabers clashed once more as Renton tried to see through the darkness under the hood, trying to see the face of this mysterious girl.

"Hey, wait! Jane! I should have known, you American traitor!"

Jane laughed as she kicked Renton in the chest and threw him back. "Your insight serves you well, Thurston. You always were the brains. Even if you were foolish enough to start this self-righteous crusade!"

"Foolish no, smart and courageous yes. Poor Jane; you'll never live to see the way life would have treated you if you had stayed with us. All you're guaranteed now is a certain dance with the devil himself!"

"Still the pious pretender, aren't you? Where is God now, Thurston? Where is that divine providence you always had faith in? Where is the Lord to help you now?"

"The Lord is with me always Jane. And you might as well lose that hood. It serves no purpose, now that I know who you are."

"If you insist."

Jane removed the hood and revealed the face of Renton's former friend who fell pray to the powerful and corrupting emotion known as lust. "Now...DIE!" She leaped at him with her saber drawn, the cape fluttering behind her, ready to strike him down in one stroke of her saber. But Renton easily parried her predictable move, sending his foot into her stomach and watched as she flipped onto her back onto the hard concrete below.

"Predictable as always Jane. I guess you'll never learn, will you?"

"Ugh...you always were good in self-defense. Too bad it won't help you now. I'm no longer the learner. It's you who will learn your lesson for betraying me." She charged at him and their sabers clashed once more, the old enemies looking their eyes and seeing into the other's soul.

"I will learn nothing Jane. It is you who will learn the lesson of what betrayal is," said Renton as he landed a punch straight to her face, forcing her back several feet.

"Another predictable move by the boy who always had shown a talent for self-defense." Their sabers were locked as they circled each other, eyeing their old enemy.

"Not as predictable as you Jane. I've known you better than anyone. Even you should know that by now."

"Could you predict that I had been following you a few months after I recovered from our first encounter? Could you predict my return?" There was no answer from him. "I thought not. Even the great commander can't see all things."

"I don't need to Jane. I know you all to well. They don't call me a sly old fox for nothing you know," he said as swords and eyes clashed again. "Are you so stupid as to forget that already? What happened to the sweet loving Jane that we all knew and loved?"

"You rejected me when I said I loved you...You ordered the killing of the new-found friend I had in Bagarov...you turned GekkoState against me...you struck me down and left me to be injured! What reason is there for me to keep loving you after receiving such treatment?!!"

"I did no such thing! I may have rejected you when it came to love, but I was always there to be your friend, someone you could come crying to when you needed it! No one at GekkoState turned against you! They wanted to help, but you refused! I sent help when I struck you down, so at least you should have known I still cared! What friend wouldn't have done that? When are you going to realize the truth Jane?! I've always been here for you! But you've been too blind to see it!"

"Truth...it is so hard to know what truth really is in this muddled confused world...lie can become truth before turning into a lie again. I won't buy into the 'truth' that is fed to you by your masters. I see the truth of what you are. An upstart pretender only looking for a good fight and aggrandizing power! Where were you when I went home injured? Where were you when everyone turned away from me at home?! Where you then? You were too busy fighting for your little 'democracy!'"

"It's not my fault you locked yourself away! I'm sorry I wasn't there for you then, but I was still upset at what you had done. But remember, I am and always will be your friend in your heart. Those are words that I will never take back. And I don't seek power, and I never will. Power is a devil, clouding one's mind. That's one thing I will never want in my life. All I seek is the American way of life, the one that I lived before this all began."

"You think being upset is reason enough to shut me away?? No. You were too caught up in that lovely intangible of freedom and democracy. You were too busy fighting your merry little war to be there for me when I needed comfort! What kind of friend is that?"

"Ok, you may have me there Jane, but you are always on my mind," Renton yelled as sabers clashed again. "Do you think there is ever a day where you aren't? Do you think there is a day where I or anyone else you know doesn't worry? Well, there isn't! True friends never forget. Remember that always Jane."

"I know one moment when I'm not there. When you're with that girl. That pathetic naïve girl! I never should have let you go to Stalingrad! I never should have supported you going on this damn crusade! I never should have let you go!!"

"I had no choice! You've could've gone with me, but you chose to stay behind. I didn't know I was going to fall in love with Eureka, but I'm glad I did. If I didn't go, do you honestly think we would've had a chance?"

"You never know. Fate would have been kind to both of us."

She looked to her left and saw many soldiers, Eureka, Holland and Talho running to the scene. She smiled mischievously. "I guess I will always wonder what could have been. But dreaming isn't as good as reality is it?" She pulled out a grappling hook and fired onto the top floor of a village building. She pushed a button and retracted the line as the others arrived on the scene.

"Jane..." said Renton to himself as Jane disappeared.

Jane screeched her last words before finally disappearing from sight. "You will not get rid of me, Thurston! I will make you pay for what you did!!!"

"RENTON!" Eureka yelled as she hugged her husband. "Are you alright?"

"She's back," Renton said quietly with a sense of dread and fear.

"You mean...Jane?" Eureka asked with a look of fear in her eyes.

"I wish it were not true, darling, but it is. She's back."

"Oh Renton." Eureka sobbed as she cried into his chest. "Why did she come back to haunt us again?"

"She wants revenge for what we did. She's being manipulated by her emotions, just like she was the last time."

"Did she cause all this damage, Commander?" asked Holland.

"I suspect so. She couldn't have gotten the explosives on her own, though. I got a feeling there's more behind this than what we think. It looks like another one of Dewey's plans to destroy GekkoState. She's the new pawn."

"Great. All of you other soldiers look for the dead and wounded! Let's make sure there aren't any children involved!" yelled Talho. "Now move!"

"YES, MA'AM!" The soldiers returned promptly.

"Eureka dear. Better go help," said Renton. "You're one of our best nurses."

"Yes, Renton. We won't let Jane get away with this. We can't."

"RENTON!" yelled Talho. "HURRY, QUICK!"

Renton got up to his feet and ran over to Talho. "What is it, Quartermaster?"

"It's Maurice, Maeter, and Linck! They were injured in the blast!"

Renton's eyes widened. "Oh...God, no..."

He found them unconscious, blood running in streams down their faces. They looked terribly hurt, with scars and cuts on their cheeks, and one large scar on Linck's forehead. Renton fell to his knees, a tear running down his cheek thinking that these innocent children were the victims of hate, of lust for revenge.

"How bad are they?" asked Eureka as she rushed to the scene.

"Pretty bad," said Holland. "But that's not the worst part."

"What is, then, General?" Renton asked worriedly.

"Their parents were all killed in the explosion by falling debris. They never stood a chance. They used their bodies to protect the kids."

Renton looked at the children, in terrible pain. There was no one else to look after them. The only other people they had were himself and Eureka. "I'll take them."

"Renton..." said Eureka softly. "But how?"

"They don't have anyone else, darling. They looked up to us as their parents! If we don't, who will!? We'll take them in. I won't stand for them being put in an orphanage."

"Are you sure, love?"

"I'm sure. They don't have anyone else apart from us. We'll do this together. If not us, then who?"

"You're right hon. Talho, you and some of the other soldiers get the kids on stretchers and over to our medical headquarters. I'll take care of them from there."

"Yes. Mrs. Thurston." Talho looked and saw six soldiers. "HEY YOU! QUIT STANDING THERE LIKE A BUNCH OF IDIOTS AND GET THESE KIDS ON STRETCHERS!!"

"YES MA'AM!" the soldiers replied as they ran in with stretchers in hand.

"This is the last straw," Renton said quietly as he watched this scene unfold. "I will not let Jane Hart get away with this."

"No we won't," said Dominic as he and Anemone joined the group. "I'll make sure all their parents get a proper funeral and burial sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Prepare Dog Company, too. I smell a commie rat behind this. And his name is Dewey."

"Yes sir, chief."

"Hey Renton, what are you going to do with the kids?" asked Anemone.

"Eureka and I will take care of them from now on. They have no one else. And I won't let them be put in an orphanage."

"I see. That's a wise decision Renton. I can tell by the way they look up to you that you'll be a great father to them."

"I hope so, Anemone. I love them enough. I love them like my own children."

"COMMANDER SIR!" yelled another soldier.

"What is it, Private?" Renton asked, feeling tired and at the end of his rope about all this.

"We've got the total injured and deceased counts for you, sir."

"All right. Give it to me."

"15 injured including the three kids, and 25 dead. It happened right at the lunch time rush. But there's some bad news to that sir."

"What's the bad news?"

"Out of the 25 dead, 10 were kids. One was only an infant. She hit just at the right time when it was the most crowded sir."

Renton just shook his head, feeling in his heart the pain of losing so many innocent people because of one person's lust for revenge. "Goddammit."

"Renton, don't let your rage cloud your judgment." said Holland. "That's just what Dewey wants."

"I know, General. She's not going to get away with this. She can't. I won't let her. We have to stop her before this gets out of hand."

"Yes Commander. But you had better go be with your wife and children sir. They're going to be scared when they wake up."

"Yes that would be best. Take over of the situation here, old friend. There's a lot of shit coming at us awful fast."

"Da, Komandir. We've got the situation handled."

"Very good."

Renton walked away, his trench coat flapping in the wind, heading to the medical aid station, all the while going over in his head the terrible fact that Jane had come back, and she was back with a vengeance, the love gone from her.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Anemone asked Holland as they watched him walk off towards his new extended family.

"I sense he will," Holland said as he looked at his tired old friend walking away. "It may be a while before he's himself again, but he will be alright. He never has let things like this get to him."

"I hope so. But one thing is for sure though."

"What is that?"

"With those three kids in his life now, he'll have four reasons to keep fighting. He may or may not know it now, but he'll be fighting with a whole new determination."

"In a way, it's a blessing. It'll make it quicker to end this thing so we can all go home and reclaim our old lives. Not to mention, he is doing his Good Samaritan duty."

"That he is Holland. That he is." And as the two watched him disappear around the corner to the medical headquarters, they knew to themselves that Jane had set off a course of events that would now lead to her downfall.

Renton walked into the medical station and soon spotted Eureka tending to the three wounded children on their beds. They all were in a comatose unresponsive state. Renton walked over to her, going over in his mind how to break the news to the children of their parents' deaths.

"Hello Eureka."

"Oh, hey dear."

"How are they?"

"Pretty rough right now. Those poor children. They really took a beating out there."

"It's so...painful to see what lust can do to a woman and what pain to others it can cause."

"I don't want to think about that now. We have three new children to worry about."

"Of course. I'm sorry dear. I don't know how to break it to them."

"Neither do I. They're going to be so sad and upset that they lost their parents."

"Yes..." They soon diverted their attention to see the children stirring on the beds.

"M...Mom?" said a very groggy Maeter as she stirred.

"It's Mama Eureka, Maeter," Eureka said gently.

"Eu...re...ka?"

"Yes, Maeter. You're all safe now."

"W...Wha' happened?" Maurice said as he started to regain consciousness.

"A lot happened," said Eureka in a sad tone.

"Something very bad happened," Renton said nodding in agreement with his wife. "I don't even know how to tell you."

"What happened? Where are our parents?" said Maurice in a sort of take charge tone. "Are they ok?"

Renton and Eureka looked to each other worriedly. Now came the moment of truth, the moment that might break their new family's heart, but still necessary for them to understand.

"Well...?"

"I'm sorry, Maurice," Renton said a tear running down his cheek. "They're not."

"They're not what?" asked Maeter worringly.

"They're not alright," Eureka said trying to keep herself composed. "Something terrible happened to them."

"What happened to Momma and papa?" she asked as tears of fear and terror started to fill her eyes.

"We don't know how to tell you this, kids...but...they're gone," Renton and Eureka said together practically breaking down in tears. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Momma, papa," said Maeter as she began to cry in Eureka's gentle embrace.

"They can't be," said Maurice. "They have to be ok."

"I wish they were, Maurice. They tried to protect you from the debris when Jane blew the two buildings up," Renton said, choking the words out of him.

"Jane Hart?"

"Yes. Her. She's back."

"But why would she kill our parents?" asked Maeter.

"She wants revenge for what I did," Renton said gloomily. "She'll do anything."

"You didn't answer me! Why our parents?!"

"I wish I knew why."

"They were there when she attacked," Eureka explained. "She couldn't have known it was your parents. But listen kids," said Eureka in a calm motherly tone, one that Renton had never heard out of her before. "Renton and I are going to take you in and raise you ourselves."

"R-really?" Linck gurgled.

"Yes Linck," Renton replied. "We couldn't see you kids going anywhere else other than in our home with us."

"We'll take you in," Eureka said smiling. "We won't stand for you going anywhere else."

"Are you going to be our parents then?" asked Maeter with a curious tone to her voice.

"Yes," they said together. "We're going to take care of you from now on." Renton turned to Eureka smiling.

"Eureka dear, I've got an idea."

"What is it, Renton?"

"Let's adopt them."

Eureka smiled. "That's a wonderful idea Renton. It's the least we can do."

"Wow hon, I didn't think you'd agree that quickly," he chuckled.

"I love them enough, Renton, like I love you."

"Well, I guess it's settled then. Kids, you'll be living with us now. I only foresee one problem though dear."

"What's that, darling?"

"We may have to find a bigger place for all of them. Our place is much too small."

"We'll deal with that when the time comes, darling. For now, let's just enjoy our new family."

"You're right. Well kids, what do you think?"

"We love you, Mama. We love you, Papa," they all said in a chorus that brought Renton and Eureka to tears.

"That's good to hear children," Eureka replied as she gave them all gentle hugs. "But rest now, let your wounds heal. We'll protect you from here on out."

"Ok, Mama." They all lay down on their beds and tried to sleep, smiles on their faces that they were taken in by the two people they looked up to.

"Well, that went better than expected," said Renton as they left their room. "I didn't expect that kind of reaction out of them."

"They look up to us. They love us enough, darling. Like we love them."

"That is true hon, but when it came to their parents, I thought they'd be a little more upset."

"It's like I said, darling. They love us. I think they almost expected us to take them in after hearing about their parents."

"Yeah, you're probably right sweetie. Well, let us go rest ourselves. It's been a very long day."

"Ok. I love you, darling," she said as she gave him a small peck on the cheek.

"What shall we do for dinner?" he asked as they made their way home from the medical headquarters. "I missed lunch with that disaster."

"I'm sure the cafeteria still has something good. Let's just not order the penne all'arrabiata," she said laughing quietly.

"Yeah, I heard about that." Renton laughed. "I have an idea for desert afterwards."

"What cunning plan do you have up your sleeve this time, Commander?" she cooed seemingly knowing what he was going to say next.

"You can have me," he whispered seductively in her ear.

"That's better than any desert any restaurant can give me," she whispered enticingly.

Renton just chuckled and gave his wife a gentle kiss as they walked arm in arm towards the cafeteria for dinner.

»»»»»

**March 22****nd****, 1946**

The papers for adoption had been filed out by Renton and Eureka, and the children were now members of the Thurston family. But there was still one major problem that had to be resolved: Jane Hart, or RED DAWN. Dominic's intelligence service has pinpointed the hiding place for the new enemy Special Forces group assembling in the hills overlooking the village. The only way to stop this madness before it got out of hand was to attack the new Red threat head-on. Dominic and Dog Company along with Holland and Talho would take care of the enemy commandos while Renton and Eureka, who had been trained in fencing by Renton, would take care of Jane. After all, he was the one she was after.

Dominic, Anemone and Dog Company had assembled themselves in mobile jeeps armed with M1919 Browning machine guns. They were rolling across a field to meet a squadron of 12 Red armored cars, which were nothing more than black Model A Fords with armed men in it. In Dominic's jeep, also nicknamed _TheEnd_, Dominic drove ahead while his wife held a Garand rifle in her hand. On the machine gun was the radio operator Carl Ford. Dominic soon switched on the communicator and spoke to his Company as he eyed the squadron coming at him.

"Everyone ready?"

"Yessir, Lieutenant!" the soldiers returned. Dominic smiled as the squadron drew closer.

"All right boys. When I give the word, we split up and go after different cars; got it?"

"Yessir."

"Get ready…" The squadron drew closer and then he saw Red Shirts poking their heads and their guns out the windows. "Pick a partner, boys! LET'S DANCE!!!"

The squadron opened fire on the jeeps and the battle began. The company and the squadron splintered off into different sections going after their own targets. Three armored cars came at him and split off to his left and right. Dominic made a u-turn and followed one car that spilt to his right. Ford fired on the car but the driver swerved to avoid it. Dominic stayed on him until Ford lined up his sights on the gun.

"Take 'im, Ford."

"Sir!"

Ford fired and the rear glass broke, killing the gunners inside and the driver, causing the car to swerve uncontrollably until it hit a small gully at which point it flipped over.

"That's one less Red to worry about!"

Dominic made another u-turn to get on the cars that swerved away to avoid him. Soon a car came attacking him head on. One Red poked his head out the window and Dominic heard clearly the words of a drone who had been brainwashed by a lie.

"YOU CAPITALIST FUCKERS WILL DIE! YOU FUCKERS WILL DIE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU FUCKERS WITH MY GUN!! AHHHHHHH!!!!" Anemone aimed her rifle at the Red with his head out while Ford aimed at the driver.

Anemone yelled loud enough for the gunner to hear, "SHUT THE HELL UP, COMMIE FUCKER!!!"

Ford fired the machine gun and killed the driver. As Dominic's jeep swerved away from the car, Ford shot twice at the engine and the car exploded in a ball of yellow flames. Dominic, Anemone and Ford cheered as they went on ahead to aid the others in their company, who were winning this battle. Dominic could tell from all the chatter coming through the communicator.

"That's a hit!"

"Scratch one!"

"One less commie bastard to worry about!" Dominic heard Seizo's voice and what he said made Dominic and Anemone burst out laughing.

"No good commie bastards come all the way here just to die, huh?!!"

"So it seems, Sarge!" Dominic replied. Then he heard Seizo speak with a slight anxiety in his voice.

"I got one on me!! I need help over here!" Dominic looked to see Seizo being pursued by a car with a Soviet flag on the antenna.

"Don't worry, Sarge. I'll be right there."

Dominic sped to Seizo's aid and got behind the car that was wreaking havoc on Seizo. Ford lined up his sights as did Anemone and they both fired, killing the gunners and the driver. The car spun out of control and hit a nearby tree, bursting into flames on impact.

"Thanks, Boss. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it, Sarge. Now get back to it! We got a battle to win!"

"Yes, sir!"

Seizo and Dominic turned their jeeps around and sped on into the fight with the enemy squadron, now reduced to nothing but four cars. The squadron tried to bid a hasty retreat, but Dominic denied them the pleasure.

"No. There is no escape."

The jeeps pursued the cars and quickly cut them all down in less than five minutes. Dominic then heard over the communicator the many cheers of his company, reveling in their victory.

"The battle's not over yet, boys. Everyone stick with me. We're going to the warehouse to stop RED DAWN."

"YES, SIR!"

»»»»»

In a dark abandoned warehouse with its roofs rotting away, a girl draped in a red hood and cape stood alone, thinking to herself over what to do now. The commandos were being captured or killed one by one, and she realized another one of Dewey's plans going awry. If she was defeated here, she would never come back again. She would go home to Belleforest and never follow GekkoState. To stay here after Dewey's plan fails would mean certain death. Of that, she was certain.

Behind her hidden by the darkness, Renton and Eureka walked together silently toward her. They were determined to make this the last time they ever see her. She had caused them enough terror and fear. This time, she would not come back. They stopped and looked at each other, finding comfort in each other's eyes. They were together, and together they could do anything, defeat any foe that stood against them. They were certain of this because they believed in each other, and when they believed in each other, nothing was impossible. Renton stepped forward towards the girl in the hood and cape, wanting to end this himself. Eureka held him back.

"Eureka, darling, what's wrong?" he whispered. Eureka looked at him with serious eyes.

"We do this together, Renton, or not at all," she said firmly.

"Eureka…I…"

"Renton, she's my problem as well as yours. She wanted to take you away from me, to destroy the powerful bond we share. I won't let that happen. And we have to stop her…together."

"You're right, as usual, my love. We'll do this together."

Eureka stepped forward a few steps and called to the girl whose face was covered by her hood.

"Down Jane!"

"Who said that?!! THURSTON?!? EUREKA??! WHO'S THERE?!?!"

"It's Eureka, Jane. Your days of terrorizing us are over!" Jane turned and saw her walk to her. Jane smiled maliciously and laughed.

"Eureka...I ought to have known Thurston would be too cowardly to face me again. I guess I'm just too much for him. But what on earth could a four-month-pregnant little girl do to me?!?!" She laughed maniacally.

"You'd be surprised at what I've taught her Jane," Renton replied as he walked into the room to her side. "She's become quite the little fighter."

Jane scoffed at the sight of Eureka, her long wavy brown hair hanging over her shoulders, her blue and white dress flowing over her small sinewy body, with no weapon at her side.

"I don't see a saber on her, do you?" she said skeptically.

"You mean this?" Eureka said smiling mischievously as she pulled a clean polished saber with a gold bell guard out from behind her back.

Jane looked at it with wide eyes. She laughed flipping her blonde hair. "BAH! Sword or not, you must realize this is your end, little girl!"

"Not with me at her side!" said Renton as he drew his sword.

Jane laughed. "You're a mindless dog on Thurston's leash!" She leapt at them and her saber along Eureka's clashed.

"Nice try Jane! You'll never prevail!" said Eureka as they clashed again.

"Your powers are weak young one. You should not have interfered. You will pay for ruining my future life with Renton."

"I am stronger than you ever will be Jane," Eureka replied with a look of determination in her eyes, stabbing at what was left of Jane's soul.

"Despite your innocent naïve charms, Eureka, there is one awful thing about you: the more time goes on, you become an annoyance!!!" Their sabers clashed once more as Renton soon came to his wife's aid.

"There's nothing annoying about her!" yelled Renton as he and Jane's swords clashed. "Her love is more than strong enough to defeat your weak defenseless mind!"

Jane's eyes widened as she smiled maniacally, looking at Renton through their crossed sabers. "Honestly Thurston, I don't know what you see in such a naïve girl that is of any value to you."

"Her love, loyalty, kindness, and respect Jane. Those are qualities that you'll never have again!"

"We shall see." She raised her saber over his head only to be blocked by the intrepid old fox. "No matter what happens, Thurston, you'll always be the nosy little upstart!!"

"And you'll always be the lonely pathetic one!" yelled Eureka as she slashed at her legs.

"AAAAGGGGHHHH!!! YOU LITTLE WENCH! I'LL SLASH YOU TO FUCKING PIECES!!!" Jane's saber clashed again with Eureka's as Jane began to lose ground. Renton soon felt a hate rise within him for hearing Jane call his wife that contemptible word.

"Nobody calls my wife that and gets away with it!" Renton yelled as he charged at Jane, his sword finding its mark through her right shoulder.

"ARGHH!! You'll get your share, Thurston! Every single self-aggrandizing plan you have will come and turn on you!!!" She attacked him relentlessly and soon her saber drew blood from the old fox's right thigh.

"Damn you! You think your ways will prevail, but they never will you whiny little brat!" yelled Eureka as she dived in again.

"You never learn do you, you young naïve fool?" Jane said laughing as their sabers clashed again and again. "WHY MUST YOU CONTINUE TO HUMILIATE YOURSELF?!?!"

"Who's humiliating themselves? I think you are Jane; I have love on my side!" Eureka replied with a smug grin, knowing time and skill were on her side. "You'll never know what that is!"

Jane smiled and laughed insanely. "Like husband, like wife. You're all the same! A COUPLE OF PATHETIC PRETENDERS!!!! Where's brother to help you now? Where's that army of rabble Renton was so proud of creating? I shall enjoy ending your pathetic life!!"

"Hey Jane, you forgot one thing though," said an indistinguishable voice from the dark as Eureka circled out of Jane's sight. Jane laughed and turned on Renton, thinking it was him.

"Oh sweet delight, the great commander speaks again! What is it this time, Commander Thurston!? Another one of your erudite speeches about the Bolshevik scum or the Communist murderers?!! What is it this time, you little upstart?!!?"

"That wasn't me talking Jane," said Renton with a mischievous grin as their swords clashed, sending sparks through the air. "That was my dear wife behind you. EUREKA NOW!" he yelled as Eureka got Jane through the left shoulder.

"ARRRGHHH!!!!"

"Give it up Jane; you're finished!" said Eureka.

"What was the part I forgot, Mrs. Thurston!? What is that one piece of wisdom that resides in that pretty empty head of yours?!?!" Jane laughed as Eureka's and Jane's sabers crossed each other and they stared each other down.

"I love Renton more than you ever will. That's what Jane," said Eureka with the same determination as before, piercing Jane's soul even further.

"Your words mean nothing to me, little girl." They broke apart and Jane cast her eyes on Renton before their sabers clashed. "Where are all your friends to help you now, Commander? Where's General Novakov? Where's Lieutenant Sorel?! Where is that army of rabble you were so proud of building!?!? I shall enjoy this."

"Back off Jane!" yelled Talho as she burst in. "You're outnumbered! Give it up!"

Jane looked and found Talho and Holland standing beside each other, smiling mischievously at her. Jane laughed insanely as she and Renton broke apart. "Surely another one of Commander Thurston's cunning plans!! You begin to annoy me with such things!!" Jane and Renton clashed sabers again and Jane looked at Renton with widened accusing, almost maniacal eyes. "You betrayed me when you sent agents to kill Bagarov! You turned GekkoState against me!! YOU WILL NOT TAKE EVERYONE AWAY FROM ME, THURSTON!!!"

"You did that yourself Jane Hart," said Holland as the four soon surrounded her. "You went down a dark path that was easily avoidable if you had just listened to us."

"Now stop while you're ahead Jane," said Renton. "Let us help you. You can't keep fighting injured like that."

"OH CAN I???? Go back with you?!?! Listen to the lies fed to you by your masters!?!? I'd rather throw myself off a cliff than do that! Report this to your masters, General Novakov: You tell them that they will never see their darling hero of the so-called Republic in the city of Belleforest again!!!"

"Jane, what are you doing?" asked Eureka. "Think about this rationally now."

"Quiet you little wench! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! You made him this way!!! If only I didn't let him go back to Stalingrad to save you, then none of this would be happening!!! YOU RUINED MY LIFE, NOW I'LL RUIN YOURS!!!!!"

"I didn't do a thing Jane! It was his decision on who he chose, and he chose me, not you. In fact, that was the best decision he ever made in his life!"

"Agreed sister," Holland replied. "I can't see my sister with a better man than Renton."

"Ah, yes, let the General fight the Commander's battle! The mindless puppet on his strings being pulled by Thurston!! You are all the same: PATHETIC!!!"

"You're the pathetic one Jane!" yelled Talho. "You're only crying over things you know you'll never have, and that includes a future with my brother-in-law!"

"Who says we can't always have what we want? Who is to say that we shouldn't engage in sinful emotions? The people who say that are the sinners themselves! They all want something!! They all want the same thing they accuse others of seeking! They all want power! Bagarov was right to caution me about all of you! IT'S A SHAME YOU AND THE GENERAL HAD TO KILL HIM!!!"

"We're here you guys!" yelled Dominic as he and Anemone entered the room after defeating other Red soldiers. "So, it's you again."

"Ah yes. First Lieutenant Dominic Sorel and his wife to the rescue. It's such a shame you won't ever see your precious friends on this earth again!!!"

"We'll see about that," said Anemone. "Your precious friends are down to their last few stands. It won't be long now and this whole thing will be over."

Jane laughed maniacally. "So naïve. You underestimate the power of my comrades. This is not the end; this is a new dawn! You've all been deceived, you lapdogs of this corrupt society!! I'm sorry I can't take you to my commander. I'm sure he would spare you for a small price."

"Just drop your sword Jane," Eureka replied. "Fighting further won't get you anywhere now. You've got four swords and two guns on you. Give it up now while you have the chance."

Jane laughed maniacally as she pulled from out of her blouse a small baking powder vapor barrier. She threw it on the ground and it exploded in a cloud of white dust. Jane used the cover to use her grappling hook on one of the building's beams and hoisted her up. Before she left she shouted her last words:

"YOU ARE ALL CORRUPT DOGS ON THURSTON'S LEASH!"

"Damn it, she got away," said Renton.

"You can never get rid of the darkness that resides within all!!!" Jane's voice echoed before fading and leaving them all in silence.

"There will be another day dear, I'm sure of it," said Eureka as she rested her tired head on his shoulder. "She'll be back."

"She's right about one thing," Renton admitted. "There is a darkness that resides within us all. We must keep ourselves pure and free from temptation so the darkness will not consume us."

"You're right, brother," Holland replied. "More right than you'll probably ever believe."

"We have to keep ourselves from going down Jane's path. Or the existence of man as we know it will be doomed."

"We will Renton; we promise," said Talho. "Now, it's been a long day. How about we call it a night and try to get some rest?"

"I say what an excellent idea, Quartermaster Novakova. We're going to need it for the fight ahead. You are all dismissed." They all left, heading back to headquarters, leaving the young commander and his wife alone.

"Hey, Renton, dear..."

"Yes, darling?"

"I suddenly...feel...faint…" And she passed out in front of him.

"EUREKA!!"

He got down on his knees and placed her head in his lap. "Tell me dear. What is it? Where does it hurt?"

There was no response, just the sweet silent sound of her breathing.

"Sleeping..." He stroked her hair gently. "Sleep, Eureka. Sleep, my little darling. You deserve it, after what we've been through."

Renton lifted Eureka up and carried her out of the warehouse back to headquarters, somehow relieved that although Jane got away, she had been struck down by the love he and Eureka shared. She would not be back; he knew that for some reason. She may be foolish, but not foolish enough to come back a third time. If she did…he did not know what he would do to her. None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that she was gone, and he and his wife could find peace.

Dewey's plan had failed as soon as it began. The Special Forces group was all but annihilated, and Jane would not return to the UBF. She had had enough. She went home to Belleforest, terribly wounded and never received the payment that would have been given to her by Dewey if she stayed. Her exodus home proved one thing to all: she was not only a lustful depraved woman, but a coward. Another thing was proven from this whole ordeal: love vanquishes lust, as it does all things. Nothing would ever change that. The seed of darkness might always reside in people's hearts, but the ones who resist the temptation of tapping into the seed are the ones that remained strong, with the light called love.

* * *

A/N: Hopefully this will be the last time we ever see that witch again. She's freaky and I hate her with a passion. "Don't make me kill you." "Oh, fuck it. I'll do it myself." (Slashes Jane with a saber) "Goodnight, you little witch." Here's the preview of the next chapter. 

_The foolish young blonde is defeated once again and is banished to the boy's home. A few weeks pass as the Resistance tries to recover from the beast's plan to destroy them and kill the boy. With the children recovering and the foolish young blonde's plan of revenge dashed, __the boy and the girl take their time to plan out their next move with the soldier and the man. At the same time, funerals for the children's parents are held, but a new future awaits them with their new parents._

**Next Time: New Family**


	29. Chapter 29: New Family

**Chapter Twenty-nine: New Family**

**April 16****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere in northern Marin County, California**

After the ordeal with Jane, the UBF lay low in the hills, not daring to attack at the GekkoState Alliance forces. Neither side was willing to make a move. Both had their own problems to attend to.

The funerals for the children's parents had been held, bringing everyone to tears over how these people were the innocent victims of lust. As the children tried to recover physically and mentally from the damage dealt to them, an old friend of Renton's had come to GekkoState and offer his services. The man went by the name of Josh McArthur. The man was 6 years older than Renton, but Renton had known him since his farm days and he had just recently moved into the city after hitting hard times himself. He refused to fight, but he was excellent at fixing things and working on vehicles when needed. He enjoyed giving Dominic and Holland a hard time.

One day, Dominic's black sedan had broken down and Josh was asked to repair it, but he kept egging on Dominic…

"Could you fix the car please?" Dominic asked agitated

"I'm working on it you dolt. I can't finish if you keep bugging me," Josh said. Dominic's faced turned red.

"Don't fuck with me, you dipshit!! I swear to God I will--"

"You'll what? Remember what happened the last time you messed with me? You got a tire iron in your chest. Good thing I went easy on you that time."

"I'll...report you...or something...or I'll...shove this...hammer up your ass!!!"

"Try me little man."

"RAAAGGGGHHH!!!!" Dominic tried to tackle Josh all the while trying to get the hammer up his buttocks. Josh just dove out of the way as Dominic dove head first into the engine compartment, hood slamming on his head. "I told you not to mess with me Dominic."

"NO! PLEASE!" Josh closed the hood on Dominic's head, slowly knocking him out. "I WAS—OW—JUST—OW—KIDDING!"

"You going to quit now Dominic? Or do I need to keep this up a while longer?"

"PLEASE STOP THE—OW!—PAIN! PLEASE—OW!—I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!"

"Good. Now leave me to work or else I'll turn this car into pieces instead of fixing it."

"Ok..." Dominic walked away bloodied and bruised. He whispered to himself, "Why's the chief friends with that fart-monger!?"

"I heard that!" Josh yells as he chucks a wrench at his head. Dominic groaned crying on the ground grasping his head. "ANEMONE! SEIZO!! SOMEONE DEMOTE THAT GUY!!!"

"I'm not part of the military you douche! I'm just a friend helping out!"

"Forgot. Of course the chief would let a crony go along..." Josh spotted the chief and his wife arriving on the scene.

"Hey Renton, would you do something about this little guy here before I really beat him?"

"Chief, don't listen to him! He's just manipulating you!! DON'T BEAT ME ANYMORE!!!"

"Well knock it off if you know what's good for you. Go read a map or something."

"BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO READ A MAP YOU DIPSHIT! YOU KNOW THAT!!"

"Well have that cute little wife of yours teach you. Take Seizo along with you."

"Yes, sir. Honestly, chief, why are you friends with that guy!?!"

"Because he's always been an honest friend and a big help when we lived on the farmlands," Renton said calmly. "If something needed to be fixed, he was right there to help."

"But why's he such an...ass?"

"He's just set in his ways Dominic. Get used to it. Nothing in the world can change that guy."

"Of that I can see..."

"Better quit while you're ahead Dom," said Eureka. "He'll take out anyone who gets in his way."

"You know him too?!"

"From Renton's tales of the farm yes. He's told me everything. I just met him a short while ago."

"I guess since he's the chief's crony, he'll be nice to you, but an ass to me and Holland."

"Get used to it shorty." Josh chuckled. "I'll be around for a long time to come."

"When the day comes when Dewey is dead and the Reds gone, I'll be soooo happy..."

"I'll still be around Dominic. I just moved into town a few blocks up from Renton. I'm not going anywhere."

"That is, if Renton stays in the neighborhood. Your house is too small for the kids, chief."

"I'll be sticking around the neighborhood Dominic. Just have to get a bigger place nearby."

"Did you ever consider going back to the farm?"

"No Dominic, we can't afford a farm anymore right now. Times are still tough for us as it is."

"I can pitch in. The officer's pay I get will cover whatever is left over."

"No, that's your money Dominic. You'll need it for the family you're trying to start."

"I don't mind. It's the least I can do for my friend."

"No Dominic, no charity, period. I'd rather work hard for what we need."

"Suit yourself..."

"It's his way of life Dominic," Josh replied. "He's been like that since I knew him from his farm days."

"No handouts from anyone, huh? No entitlements? Nothing like that? I'm not surprised."

"Wow, smartest thing you've said all day."

"You want to start something, Josh?! You're a mechanic! I got military combat training on your ass!"

"Yeah, and what about it? I'd whip you little military babies around like you were toys."

"Oh really?" Dominic brought his BAR which was slung on his shoulder and brought aiming at Josh. "TRY ME, JOSH!" Josh grabbed his gun, picked him up over his head, and threw him head first into a giant puddle of rainwater from the day before.

"Now will you guys get him out of there before he gets pneumonia? Hopefully that'll cool him off a bit."

"WHERE'D YOU LEARN HOW TO DO THAT?!!?!"

"Picking up calves twice your size on the farm, that's where."

"Of course...I forgot...the farmhand. I'LL GET YOU SOMEHOW, JOSHUA MCARTHUR!!!"

"I work out constantly. And keep trying short stuff. You won't get anywhere."

"STOP CALLING ME SHORT! I'M VERTICALLY IMPAIRED!!!!"

"Yeah, which means short."

"SHUT UP, CRONY!!" He charged at Josh who then engaged him in a tussle.

"Hopefully you're not short in 'that' department either." Josh laughed heartily as he soon gets him into a hog tied position.

"Which??"

"Think about it."

"Uuhh..." Then Dominic's face grew red in embarrassment and rage, soon realizing what he meant. "YOU SON OF A--!!! I don't think my wife would say that!!!" All Josh could do was laugh as Dominic laid there in a hog tied position.

"Touchy little man aren't you?"

"Let's see what my wife has to say about this!!! ANEMONE!!!!"

"What have you done to my husband?" asked Anemone as she walked towards them.

"Just teaching him a lesson or two." Josh replied. "You've got a hot headed husband there."

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!! HE CALLED ME SHORT!!! BOTH IN HEIGHT AND..."

"And what dear?"

"I'd...I don't want to say...but he said I'm short in 'that' department if you get my drift..."

"Oh, I see. I can't believe you let people get to you that easily hon. You've got to quit doing that."

"He's an ass! That's why! A crony ass!!"

"And a total comic relief," Renton tried to say as he and Eureka sat next to the car in hysterics. "I haven't seen anything like that in ages!"

"Chief! YOU'RE NOT HELPING!!"

"We can't...help...it," Eureka laughed. "It's...just...so...funny..."

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?!?!"

"Come on dear," Anemone giggled. "Let's go before you really blow a fuse."

"GET THIS CRONY OFF ME FIRST!!!!"

"He's not on you silly. You must be in a blind rage if you didn't notice that. He's over there standing next to Renton and Eureka."

Dominic looked to see that man who annoyed him deeply standing by his two friends, waving at him, thoroughly enjoying this. "Oh..."

"Gotcha." Josh chuckled as Anemone untied him.

"Damn you, Josh!!"

"OK, can I get back to work now? I'm hoping this clown learned his lesson not to mess with me."

"You may have won this round, Josh. We'll meet again."

"I'll be waiting little shrimp." Dominic tried to charge at him while Anemone held him back, laughing. First Sergeant Seizo soon arrived.

"You had better knock it off Lieutenant," Seizo laughed. "He'll keep taking you out until you give up."

"Where'd you come from, First Sergeant? You have not forgotten your duties as a platoon sergeant already, have you!?!"

"Nope. I was just switching shifts when I saw all that. Very humorous."

"Are you on my side or his, First Sergeant?!"

"Hey, I'm staying neutral on this," he chuckled. "But I'm going to go take care of my shift now. Later guys."

"FIRST SERGEANT DANIEL SEIZO, YOU'LL BE LUCKY I DON'T GIVE YOU A MONTH PROBATION FOR THIS!!!"

"He didn't do anything wrong Dominic, so back off," said Renton.

"A subordinate follows the orders of an officer! Have you forgotten the ways of the military already, chief?"

"No I haven't Dominic. You know he didn't do anything wrong and so do I, so leave him be. He's doing his job just fine."

"You're no help at all..."

"I just know what's right, that's all."

"And you're not going to back me up when your crony calls me short!!"

"Well, he is somewhat right Dominic," said Eureka. "You are short for your age."

"It's not my fault they don't give us milk in the Army!! How'd you expect me to grow when all I'm given to drink is water!?!"

"Milk is expensive, that's why," Josh replied. "That's why I sold my farm. I couldn't pay for the upkeep."

"Are you sure that's the reason, or did you invest in the stock market at the wrong time, like Renton's family?"

"That's the reason, trust me. I got good money out of it though, so I'm not complaining." Dominic had nothing to say to that. "So as you can see, I can retire right now if I wanted to, but I won't. I'd rather help out where ever I can with my friends."

"That's sweet, Josh. Like that's not what I'm doing by following Renton and supporting GekkoState in the U.S. Army?"

"Call me sweet again and you'll end up in that puddle again."

"What's the matter...sweetie?" With anger in his eyes, Josh charged at him, picked him up once again in front of Anemone's eyes, and literally slammed him into the puddle of rainwater. "Jerk."

"IT WAS A JOKE, CRONY!!!"

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you through all that rainwater."

"I said..." he got his face out of the rainwater. "IT WAS A JOKE!!!"

"Well make sure you don't do it again. I may be a good lover to women, but I don't allow ANYONE to call me sweetie."

"Oh really? Got a wife of your own?"

"No. Divorced a short while ago. Farm life got to her and she left me."

"Oh...Why do you hate being called that anyway?"

"It just rattles my nerves, that's all. Always has for some reason."

"Ok...what can I call you then? Crony? Farmhand? Douchebag?"

"How about Josh before I punch your lights out?"

Dominic then thought to himself worriedly: _What the hell did you say, Dominic?_

Josh cracked his knuckles, ready to fight.

"What was that again little shrimp?"

"Ok, ok, ok, Josh. Just don't punch me again! And don't call me shrimp! That's rude!! Everybody, listen to me..."

"Listen Dominic, you respect me, and I'll respect you. You don't respect me, you can expect my fist in your face and my size twelve shoes up your ass."

"That's reason enough for me..." Dominic said intimidated.

"Good. Now, can I FINALLY get back to work?"

"Yes...Josh."

"Thank you. Renton, Eureka, I'll take a look at your armored cars when I'm done with this one."

"Anemone...honey? Honey?" he said dazed. "Show me the way to go home...I'm tired and I want to go to bed...I had a large beating about an hour ago and it got right to my head..."

"Ok hon." she giggled. "Wow, he sure gave you the run around."

"Wherever I may roam, on land or sea or foam, you will always hear me, singing this song, show me the way to go home!!"

Yeah, it got to his head alright,she thought to herself amused as she helped him walk home I've never seen him like this before.

"Let's go, honey...and have some alone time..," he said smiling in his daze.

"Yes love, we will. We'll go home and you can rest ok? If you're good, I'll give you some cookies for a snack."

"Thank you, Mommy...," he said as his eyes got heavier and heavier.

Oh dear, he's REALLY out of it,she thought worriedly. "Dominic, stay awake dear. You can sleep when you get home."

"Ok, Mommy. Whatever you say, Mommy. Why are going to L.A. with that man, Mommy?"

"Ahh, Renton, Eureka!" Dominic opened his eyes a little wider.

"Why'd you leave me, Mommy?!"

"What's wrong Anemone?" asked Eureka as they reached them.

"Josh must have really messed with his head. I think we better have him rest in the infirmary for a while." Dominic looked at Eureka.

"You're not Mommy!!"

"Yeah he did." Renton laughed. "I haven't seen anyone this bad since Tommy Tucker tried messing with him. Poor Tommy was on therapy for two months after that."

"Where's Mommy?! Why'd you leave me, Mommy!!? Come back, Mommy! What's Daddy gonna say when he hears about you, Mommy?!"

"I think it's going to take some of that therapy to get Dominic back in shape after that melee," Anemone giggled.

"Is that you, Mommy?!"

"It's ok Dominic dear. It's Mommy. We're going to go to the big building over there and get you some cookies ok?"

"Ok, Mommy. I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too sweetie," Anemone replied with a warm smile. "Afterwards you're going to take a nap ok?"

"Ok. Naps are fun. It's good to sleep."

"Yes it is," Anemone replied as she gave Eureka a concerned look. "Naps are good for boys like you."

"Yeah...Naps are fun. C'mon, Renton, buddy! Let's go take a nap! Naps are fun!"

"I'm not tired," said Renton. "But you can sleep all you want ok buddy?"

"Ok. See you in school tomorrow. Did you get the math homework? I didn't..."

"No homework buddy," Renton replied as they walked into one of the infirmary's bedrooms. "But I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Ok..." Dominic said with a childish smile as he was laid down on one of the infirmary beds. "Mommy, sing me a song..."

"How about 'twinkle twinkle little star'?"

"Yeah! My favorite!!!"

And as Anemone began to sing Dominic to sleep, Renton silently went back outside to talk to Josh.

"You really messed him up but good this time Josh. Worse than you did Tommy Tucker."

"That bad eh? I thought I went pretty easy on him."

"He spent two months in therapy if you remember..."

"Yeah, I remember. The last time Tommy saw me, he ran faster than anyone I've seen run before."

"Yeah, that's right. Josh, I hope this kind of thing doesn't happen again. We got bigger things to worry about."

"I know that. I just hope there aren't any other guys like him around here."

"He's just getting used to having you around; that's all. He's my friend like you are, Josh."

"I see. So, how is little Eureka doing? She seems to be a little big in the tummy lately. Have you forgotten to tell me something my good friend?"

"I guess I have. She's five months pregnant."

"Well congratulations Renton. Your first I'm guessing?"

"Yes. Our first. Well, technically fourth, if you count Maurice Maeter and Linck. You remember what I told you about that, right?

"Jane Hart...you remember what I told you about her right? She blew two buildings up and the falling debris killed the parents?"

"Oh yeah, the blonde haired girl. Whatever happened to her?"

"We found her and dueled with her. She escaped and went home. She was trying to get revenge for 'what I did'. She won't be back though. She's not foolish enough to come back another time."

"Well from what you told me, she wouldn't listen to reason with you guys right?"

"Right..."

"Well, I'd like to meet this 'Jane Hart' and see what I can do with her."

"No, you don't want to meet Jane, Josh. Jane is fucking crazy."

"And I'm not? Look at what I did with Dominic. Do you think a normal man could do that?"

"You were angry. That's not crazy. That's human."

"That wasn't anger, believe me. That was part of my normal state of being. I'm a nice guy and a hard ass at the same time."

"Yeah, from knowing you. But listen, Josh. She wanted to have me BAD, and she killed innocent people to take revenge for me not loving her. She's like Hitler crazy. Do you think you can go up against someone like that?"

"I'm pretty sure I can handle her. I'm six and a half feet and built like a giant bulldozer and she's some petite blonde with love issues. I think I've got it covered."

"Don't blame me if you get slashed by her saber."

"Saber eh? Hmm, I eat those things for breakfast. You saw what happened when Dominic pulled his gun on me."

"Yes, I did. But she's different. She won't listen to reason. I think it's best you leave her alone. Trust me on this, Josh. I had to face her _twice_. I was lucky I got out alive. You'll be lucky if you survive, Josh."

"Different eh? It ought to be a nice challenge. If I can reduce Dominic down to the mental state of a three-year-old, this should be fun."

"If you really insist, she lives in Belleforest, far south of here. This is her address." He took a slip of paper and wrote her address on the paper with a pencil.

"Thanks Renton. So, how was Mr. Sorel the last time you saw him? Did I really get him that bad?"

"He was calling Anemone 'Mommy' over and over again, like it was him back in the 5th grade. He led a very troubled childhood, Josh, and I think it would be best you don't that to him again. I really hate seeing him like that."

"Well he brought it on himself as you saw. I just leveled the playing field for him."

"I grant you he was out of line, but he's my friend just like you are mine. He's had a very troubled life, Josh."

"I know Renton. You already said that my friend."

"I thought maybe I should reinforce that point."

"You didn't have to. I got you the first time."

"Very well. But listen, Josh; he's getting used to seeing a new face, like everyone else is. So don't blame him for it."

"I don't Renton, believe me. He just has to learn not to agitate people like that. Hopefully he learned that today."

"I think he has, after what you did. If he tries it again, I'll put a stop to it."

"Good. Thanks Renton."

"No problem, Josh."

»»»»»

A few days later, Josh sat in the general living area of the headquarters of GekkoState, seeing Renton, Eureka, Holland, Talho, Dominic, Anemone and some female private officers, talking and laughing and more and more coming to understand the man who had joined GekkoState to aid his old friend.

"Josh, why do you like teasing Dominic and brother so much?" Eureka asked curiously.

"Well, mainly because they're easy to pick on Eureka. Especially shorty over there."

"STOP CALLING ME SHORT!!!" Dominic protested. Josh ignored him as everyone laughed.

"And for Holland, well, it's hard explaining with him. He's got so many faults that it's hard to choose one."

"Name one…" said Holland, eyeing him contemptuously.

"Well, how about being a hard headed, self centered jerk who only thinks about himself when things get difficult?"

"Since when have I ever been a jerk?!"

"I've heard many a story from Renton." Holland turned to Renton.

"Brother, what did you tell him?"

"Well, ahh..." Renton began nervously.

"Come on, Commander. Out with it."

"I'm...ah...leaving now..." He ran out the door to avoid a certain beating...

"RENTON, YOU MAKE ME DO THIS!!!" Holland produced his saber and ran after him.

Josh tripped him as he ran, making him fall on his face. "Oh yeah, did I forget short tempered?"

Holland growled and tried slashing at Josh. Eureka held him back by his yellow ascot.

"Thank you Eureka." he laughs. "It makes me wonder how Mrs. Novakova can put up with you."

"I just do. It's fun though to keep reminding him of his faults..." Talho said proudly.

"You're a strong woman then Mrs. Novakova."

"Thank you." Holland looked up at Josh in a rage and spoke.

"Renton is my oldest and closest friend, you jerk! Name one time I have ever done anything to him. Josh? Sister? Anyone???"

"Well, there is the beer incident my dear brother." Eureka giggled. "But of course we got you back for that. I still spent a lot of time though getting him better as sick as he got."

"Sister, sometimes I wonder if maybe I let Renton rub off you too much. Him being so pious..."

"What he did for me was wonderful, and you know it brother. Now be nice. You are going to be an uncle soon you know."

"I know. And you might be an aunt if Talho and I ever decide..."

"Brother, is Talho...?"

Talho scowled and said, "Not yet..."

"Talho, you never told me that you wanted a child..." Holland said startled by this discovery.

"We've been under too much stress for me to bring it up."

"Well you still should've told me anyways lubov."

"How about now then?"

"Anything you want..."

"Wow, he does have a soft side." Josh laughed as he slapped him on the back, sending him across the room. "Oops, sorry Holland. Sometimes I forget about my own strength."

Holland growled softly as he got back up. "Josh, normally I would challenge you to a swordfight, but since you're Renton's friend I won't. Consider part of my duty as being a General..."

Talho and Eureka rolled their eyes.

"Holland, you, just like Dominic over there, wouldn't stand a chance."

"I would have something to say about that. I don't see a saber on you."

"I don't need one, trust me."

"Why ever not?" everyone asked in curiosity.

"Well, I fight with my hands, not weapons. I don't believe in them. The only weapon I have is a saber my great granddad used. He passed it down to me before he died. It hangs in my living room, proof of what he did for this country of ours."

"Was he an officer in the Army?"

"Yes he was. If I ever have children of my own someday, I plan on passing it down onto them also."

"Very nice tradition," Holland said crossing his arms. "Why didn't you choose to serve?"

"I'm a lover, not a fighter. But if the time comes, I can hold my own without even breaking a sweat."

"How many Reds can you hold off?" Talho and Eureka rolled their eyes again, seeing Holland getting into one of his "modes."

"Well, considering I once took out ten guys in a bar fight with just one hit each, what does that tell you? That was the biggest fight I've ever been in." Holland said nothing. His eyes only widened as Eureka and Talho laughed quietly. "So, Holland, did I prove my point or are you a non believer?"

Holland was struck silent. "That's his way of saying you proved your point, Josh," Eureka said smiling.

"Good little Eureka. Now Holland, let me show you something else. Eureka, Talho, come over here for a minute could you please?"

"Certainly," they said as they both got up from their seats and went over to Josh.

"Ok, I want Talho on one side and Eureka on the other."

Eureka and Talho stood to one side of Josh. Talho went to his right and Eureka to his left.

"Hang on girls! And watch your heads!" he said as he surprisingly picked both of them up on his shoulders with almost effortless ease. "And I could probably hold on to them all day like this too."

The girls laughed joyously as Holland and Dominic and the others watched with unbelieving wide eyes.

"Ok, one more example. Come on over Anemone. Talho, Eureka, stay right where you're at."

Anemone walked over, unsure of what would happen.

"Anemone, you sit on the back of my neck and all three, or should I say four of you, hold onto each other."

"All right. There are only three of us, Josh," Anemone said as she sat on the back of his neck.

"You forget about Eureka's little one inside of her. OK, here we go!" he laughed as he once again picked them up with effortless ease.

"HOW THE HELL DOES HE DO THAT?!?!" the men said as they watched Josh carry the girls around the room in the headquarters.

"It's from the cows I moved before I sold my farm. I did this on a daily basis since they were so stubborn."

"Well...uhh..." the men couldn't match up to that.

"Here you go girls." Josh chuckled lightly as he gently let them down. "Careful Eureka."

"Thank you, Josh," she said kindly as she stepped down and walked back to the other side of the living area.

"So what do you think now Holland? Pretty impressive if you ask me."

"P...pretty impressive, yes..." Holland said slowly trying to think of something to counter this man who secretly was getting more and more on his nerves.

"_I'm_ impressed," Talho said with a girlish giggle.

Dominic soon came up with something to get this man back. "There is _one_ thing you can't match, Josh. How do you score against Renton in smarts? I..." he looked to Holland with an indicative nod. "_We_ bet you can't match any of us when it comes to strategy."

"Well Dominic, you do have me there, no doubting that fact at all. I'm not afraid to admit it. Besides, it was fun throwing you into that puddle a couple of times."

Everyone laughed as Dominic pulled his garrison cover over his face. "I really don't..."

"Don't what?"

"I don't want to go over that again. That was just embarrassing. Besides, you reduced me to the mental capacity of a seven-year-old. Maybe Renton hasn't told you, but my life hasn't been exactly 'charmed', if you get my meaning..."

"I know, but you brought that on yourself. But I'm willing to look past it if you are. That doesn't mean though I won't be giving you a hard time every now and then."

"I DON'T BRING IT ON MYSELF THAT MOM LEFT US WHEN I WAS 12 FOR A MAN IN L.A.!!!" Dominic yelled, offended.

"I didn't mean that Dominic."

"What then, wise guy?"

"Dominic, think about it."

Dominic thought for a moment. "What does my height have to do with any of this?!"

"Boy, you really are forgetful aren't you? If you keep agitating a situation, people are going to retaliate against you, just like I did." Dominic just growled and turned away seeing his point. "Anemone, you had better work on that husband of yours."

"He's just easy to pick on is all," Anemone said giggling.

"Whose side are you on, hon?" Dominic asked her seriously.

"There's a reason why I said that Anemone," Josh said seriously.

Renton came in just then. "Don't pin it all on him, Josh. Dominic hasn't had the best of childhoods and it made him that way."

"I realize that Renton. I'm just trying to help here a bit."

"Thanks, but if I want help, I'll ask you for it," Dominic said.

"Actually, this might help if you ever start a family Dominic. If you keep getting agitated over things, it'll reflect onto your kids if you have a family someday, turning them away from you. I would just hate to see that happen."

"He's right, hon," Anemone said smiling at him.

"I know," he consented. "I've just been so frustrated lately. What with Jane coming back and the parents' death, and this whole bloody mess..."

"It's understandable," Josh said as he extended his hand to Dominic. "We're still friends though right?"

Dominic extended his hand to Josh and shook it. "Sure...pal."

"Seems to me we could all use a vacation, the way everything's gone," Anemone put in again. "We've all been under so much stress lately. And it shows."

"Well I'm far from a vacation Anemone," Josh said. "And by the look in your eyes, I think you're hiding something from us."

Anemone's eyes widened, knowing what Josh was talking about. She wasn't about to tell them now, however. "Well, Josh, maybe you're not looking for a vacation, but me and Dom are. And I think all of us are."

"It's not that Anemone. I have work of my own to do here yes, but I can see something else going on with you."

"It's...nothing."

"I think we have a pregnant lady here. I recognize that look from anywhere. There's a soft motherly glow in your eyes."

Anemone sighed as she held her husband's hand tightly. "All right, you got me."

"See? I know what I'm talking about. I've helped deliver a baby or two around my parts since we didn't really have a doctor nearby."

"It shows. I didn't you'd spot it so soon."

"It's natural for me I guess. So Dominic, how are you feeling now?"

"Better...Anemone and I have known about this for a little while already. But still...I could use that vacation."

"Looks like all of you could. But I have a mission of my own to take care of."

"And what's that, pray tell?"

"A girl named Jane Hart."

Holland shook his head and chuckled softly. "You're wasting your time, my friend. We lost her a long time ago."

"You may have, but not me. Renton already told me all about her. I'm not giving up on my fellow man. I'm going to give it my all. I'm not giving up until I bring her back."

"You don't understand. She's been brainwashed like the rest of the Reds and the people from my country. She's betrayed her country, and all of us."

"So you're just going to give up on her just like that? What kind of man are you?"

"A man with a grasp of something called reality."

"A reality that only you believe in. That's not my reality."

"What's yours?"

"One where we all help each other, no matter what the situation is. It's a place where we don't give up without a fight."

"Like what we're doing?"

"You're fighting for our freedom Holland, and that deserves all the respect in the world. What I'm doing is different though."

"How so?"

"I'm doing it without fighting. I'm letting my own words and actions prove who and what I am and what I believe in."

"That's all fine and good for you, but what about her? Has everyone forgotten already what she has done? She gave up the fight when it got too tough for her and took the dark route that was easily avoidable. She betrayed the trust of every one of us. How can anyone atone for that?"

"You won't know that answer unless you actually reach your hearts and hands to them Holland. You have to keep trying to the bitter end. That's what I'm going to do."

"Even so..."

Renton turned and glared at him. "Holland, stop it. I already gave him my permission."

"Renton, I would've done it without your permission anyways. Remember, I don't serve in the military."

"It's not that, Josh. I believe in something called redemption. I'm a man of faith, and part of my faith is belief in redemption. Maybe no one in this room believes in it, but I do."

"That's what I like about you Renton. Holland, you and everyone else here should feel the same way. It's the only way we can live in peace with each other."

"I'm no fatalist," Holland said, "but I believe in something that's called loyalty. It's something a lot of people have forgotten about recently. She is not worthy of the title loyal. Do you think someone committing something as heinous as treason can be given absolution?"

"Do you believe someone like you does? Especially after giving up on her like that?"

"We wanted to help but she refused. Renton at least proved he still cared by dueling with her the first time. You can do as you want, but don't expect any luck. She's dangerous and untrustworthy."

"And so are you. You thinking that giving up on someone when you know they have a chance to be reunited with their friends and faith makes you no better than them. Look into your heart Holland. You and all the others here know I'm right."

"Shut up, the both of you!" Renton said finally, thoroughly agitated with all this.

"NO RENTON!" Josh yelled as he looked at him sternly with eyes of steel.

"Josh, I've already given you my permission to go. I'm on your side in this, but I won't stand for this pointless arguing over something that has already been decided."

"Well I'm going to prove to this little pissant how wrong he is. Mark my words Renton, I will return with her. Back with the Jane you all know and love."

He then stormed out of the room. Renton could tell he was a man on a mission. One that he knew he wouldn't give up on until the Jane Hart that they all knew had returned to them.

"You had to set him off, didn't you?" Renton said glaring at his brother-in-law.

"I just don't believe he can change that witch, that's all."

"Even _I_ have my doubts about that, General, but trying can still make a difference."

"We already tried Renton! Get over it! She's gone!"

"She was manipulated, brother," Eureka broke in looking at him sternly. "She was deceived by a lie like we were back in the Soviet Union. Do you think we would be who we are today if Renton had not tried to teach us?"

"It doesn't matter. I still don't believe he can do anything to help. He's probably as useless as the next person."

"I will listen to criticism, Holland," Renton said, folding his arms, "but not insults. You may have your doubts and so have I, but all the same he is my friend. He certainly is not useless."

"He'd better prove it then. Otherwise he's a nobody to me." Holland then got up and left, leaving Renton with an angered look on his face.

"I'll talk to him," Talho said quietly.

"Please do," said Eureka quietly.

"I'll believe him," said Dominic. "Besides, he's proven enough to me already."

"And to me," Renton said nodding. "I may have doubts about his chances for success like anyone else, but there is still such a thing as redemption."

"For all of us," Anemone continued. "Enemy or not, we can all atone for the sins we've committed."

"Amen," all said in unison.

"By the way Anemone, why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" Eureka asked with a hint of curiosity.

"I wanted to save it when the time was right, but Josh really forced it out of me."

"I could tell," she giggled. "I can't believe he's that good."

"He's never failed to impress me," Renton concurred. "From all my years of knowing him, he's as reliable and faithful a friend as anyone."

"And kind of cute," one of the female private officers giggled.

"You can stop right there," Renton said eyeing them. "I got a feeling there's more behind this mission than what Josh has told me."

"He's no fun." another one whispered to the first. "Us ladies can't have any fun with him around."

"Watch it, or I'll report all of you!" Eureka said.

"Try me prego!"

Renton glared at the private officers. "That's enough you two. I won't stand for you calling my wife names!"

"Yeah, whatever. Come on girls, let's go party. I can't stand being around pregnant teens anyways. How disgusting."

"At least we're married," Eureka and Anemone said together, offended.

"Whatever you say girlies," they replied snobbishly as they left.

"Why doesn't someone demote them?" Dominic asked eyeing them leaving.

"I...feel...so ugly now. No one likes...pregnant girls...my age?" Eureka said in tears, almost bawling.

Renton held her in his arms comforting her. "Don't listen to them. They're just a bunch of stuck up girls just like back in high school."

"Excuse me a minute," said Anemone as she stomped off. A few minutes later, one could hear the sounds of pain and suffering as Anemone gave them the beating of a lifetime for insulting her friend.

Dominic smiled wryly. "I don't think they'll be calling anyone anything after this..."

"Yeah, that sounded painful" Renton chuckled.

"They deserve it," Talho said finally.

"I thought you went to talk to Holland?" Eureka said as she tried to dry her tears.

"I am. I got distracted." She got up and went to the quarters where Holland sat up on the cot.

"Renton, love, let's go check on our kids."

"Yeah. Good idea. Eureka, darling, remember: no matter what anyone says, you'll still be my loving wife. That's all that matters."

"Thank you. Besides, I have to check their wounds again to make sure they're healing properly. I'm sure their hearts are still broken too."

"After all that's happened..."

That was all anyone heard them say as they went out the door to the infirmary. Dominic was left alone in the living area while Anemone finished beating up the female officers and while Talho lectured Holland in their quarters.

"Why are you being such an ass?" Talho asked sternly when she found him. "What happened to your faith?"

"There's something else I believe in and it's called honor, code and loyalty."

"That's all military talk. I believe in what Josh is doing. You should too."

"She's gone, Talho. Everyone realizes that already. We tried to help her, but she turned her back on us."

"She may have, but in a way, we did too."

"We didn't betray our democracy, did we?"

"I'm not talking about that you dolt."

"Then what ARE you talking about?"

"Helping our fellow man, never giving up until the bitter end. That's what we did. Give up. Now Josh is going to try to finish what we should have a long time ago."

"We already tried to help her. Twice now! She refused us again and again. How will Josh be any different from what we did?"

"Because he has a stronger heart than most of us do I guess. I can't explain it any better than that."

"He's just perseverating on something that has already been done to the best of our ability."

"I disagree. He has something we don't. I wish I knew what it was though. But I just can't seem to figure it out."

"Faith? Faith that God is merciful and forgiving?"

"Yeah, you're probably right," she replied with a warm smile. "Faith that is stronger than all of us combined."

"Faith..."

"Yes my lubov, faith."

Holland lay down on the cot. "There's such a thing as faith, and there's such a thing as atonement. Do you honestly think she can atone for betraying her country and the trust we placed in her?"

"Yes I do. If Renton believes it can happen, then so do I." Holland sighed. How like him, he thought. He could still be so optimistic, even after everything that had ever happened to them had changed him into almost a pragmatist.

"Renton...even after everything, he still is idealistic."

"We all have ideals. Even you do Holland."

"The things I believe in are the loyalty to something greater, bigger than any of us. She didn't have that. The only thing she had was that lust for Renton that got her into the whole mess in the first place."

"Well I believe Josh can change that. If you don't, then he was right. You truly are a pathetic man."

"Even Renton has his doubts..."

"Even I do, but we still believe, no matter what."

Holland sighed, knowing he was losing this fight. "Still believe in redemption?"

"Don't you? We all should."

"I thought I did...before all this."

"Never lose your beliefs Holland. It will only make you less of a man and more of a coward."

Holland sat up again, conceding. "If it makes me a coward, that's something I can't live with."

"Now that's the man I love and married." Holland chuckled lightly.

"It was just my stupid belief in loyalty..."

"Loyalty is more of a strength than a belief, but it's always one you should carry with you."

Holland nodded and grasped her hand. "You got it."

"I know." Talho then smiled playfully and tackled him back onto the cot, kissing him passionately.

"Forgive me for doubting, Quartermaster. It's just my stupid honor code acting up again..."

"Honor is sometimes made to be broken," she said smiling. "Even the most human person can't live honorably all the time."

"I guess you're right..." They lay together on the cot, the hope and faith that lay dormant in the heart of Renton's old friend awakened once more. As Talho lay on top of Holland in a loving embrace, he could for some reason feel her shuffling a bit. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she giggled.

"Come on, Quartermaster. You can't fool General Novakov."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Well I guess I fooled you already then General."

"What then? What were you hiding from me?" he said playfully tackling her. "Talk! Talk!"

"How about this?" she said as she sat upright. He then noticed that Talho had somehow slipped out of her dress and only had on her military dress uniform shirt and undergarments.

"Talho...w..wha..."

"Well, I did say I wanted to start a family someday. But not quite yet. This is only because I love you."

"Like I love you. Let's not wait around anymore. If brother and sister can have a family then so can we."

"Well I don't want them to think we're copying them." she smiled seductively. "I just want what's rightfully mine."

"Then you will get what is coming to you..." Holland quickly undressed, locked the door and the two wrapped themselves under the sheets.

"Oh, I almost forgot my shirt." Talho giggled as she took it off, exposing her bra to her husband. "You like?"

"Oh, I do like."

"Good. Be gentle though. This is our first time you know. We've never made love to each other before.'

"It can't be as hard as fighting and killing, something I've been doing for a good part of my life."

"Well I can tell you one thing then my love..."

"And what is that?"

She then whispered in his ear "I'm still a virgin. I've held myself back just for that one special person, and that person is my loving husband."

"I am glad..."

"I'm happy you are. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to meet someone like you."

"Come now. You must have met some others at some point."

"No one who has made as strong as I am now."

"Then I'm glad you chose me. If for nothing else but that."

Talho then removed her bra, her bare chest on his, holding him tight, never wanting to let him go. "Lubov, make love to me..."

"You don't have to ask..."

»»»»»

**May 4****th****, 1946**

**Belleforest, California**

Renton, Eureka and the children had taken leave, going back to Renton's old town of Belleforest to have the children finish recuperating from their remaining wounds. Renton had left Holland in charge of things in GekkoState until he and the others got back. After everything that had happened, they needed a vacation, like Anemone had said.

Renton and his family spread themselves around the small living area of his one-floor bungalow back in Belleforest, trying to think of something to do. They had been there now for more than two weeks, trying not just to lick their wounds, but heal their minds.

"Renton," Maeter asked kindly, "is it ok if we call you and Eureka mom and dad?"

"Sure, Maeter. Call us anything you want. We are your new mom and dad after all."

"Ok daddy!" she smiled gleefully. Renton smiled and mussed her hair the way a father would.

"Ow, my leg..."

"What's the matter? Your leg hurts?"

"Yes."

"Well it _is_ broken," Eureka chimed in. "It's going to hurt on and off for a bit dear."

"Ok Momma."

Renton sat, trying to think of something fun he could do with his new family. He went over and over in his mind, searching for an idea...

"What are you doing dad?" Maurice asked as Renton went towards a closet.

"I'm going to look for something fun we can all do."

"Like what love?" Eureka asked.

"You'll see..." Renton said smiling slyly.

"Renton..."

"What is it, darling?"

"What are you up to?"

Renton waggled his eyebrows as he went into the short hallway, smiling with something up his sleeve. "I'm not telling..." Eureka looked to Linck and spoke harshly.

"LINCK! What did I tell you about playing with your bandages?"

"Sorry Momma," he replied sadly.

Renton laughed quietly to himself as he opened the closet door in his old bedroom with the one small cot and looked around on the floor. Mostly boxes with scribbling that had never been opened. He groped around on his hands and knees, searching for something they could all enjoy. Then he spotted something familiar, tucked away in a corner of the closet. He looked on it with wide eyes. He thought they had lost it a long time ago. It was here! It was still here after everything, after all this time. He stepped closer and saw the thing tucked away...

**THURSTON FAMILY ALBUM**

"What'd you find dad?" Maurice asked as he came up behind him.

"Something I thought was lost for a long time, son..." He stood up and showed him the cover of the red leather-bound book. "Don't tell anyone yet. I want this to be a surprise for everyone."

"Tell them what dad?"

"Don't tell them what I found. It's something really important."

"Oh, ok."

Renton patted his eldest adopted son on the cheek and he ran back into the living area as he searched around for anything more he could find.

"Maurice, what is your father up to?" Eureka asked as she tended to Linck.

"I'm not allowed to say, Mom."

"Oh really now?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Papa is being weird." Maeter giggled as she rested on their sofa.

"You just wait what I have to show you when I'm finished looking in here!" Renton called out, hearing them.

"Sounds like your father is going to come out looking like a clown." Eureka giggled.

"No...something better!"

"An entire circus?"

"Guess again..."

"An entire carnival?"

"Steer away from the circus theme a little bit..."

"Aww, where's your sense of humor dear?"

"It's not my fault, Mrs. Thurston that you can't guess..."

"It's not my fault that you can't laugh." She giggled, knowing she was agitating him a bit.

"I think..." He came out into the hallway. "…the General would have something to say about that!"

"Oh would he now?"

"Momma and Papa are bickering," said Maeter. "That's not funny."

"No, but I know something that is..." He walked into the general living area. Everyone laughed at the sight of him.

"Oh my love, what are you wearing?" Eureka asked smiling.

Renton came in dressed in an all dark navy blue uniform with red lining down the side of each pant leg. Around him was a red sash and a saber with a gold bell guard tucked in a black scabbard. On his shoulders was the insignia denoting the rank of a Major General, and on his head sat a blue floppy kepi with a fabric insignia on it.

"Is that a costume Papa?" Linck asked.

"Close to it. It's something my great grandfather used to wear when he was alive."

"It looks weird," Maeter said giggling.

"Try telling that to a Union Army officer in 1863!"

"That's old."

"Yeah, it is." Renton sat down on the sofa as Maeter stood up and all the children gathered around him, seeing him set on his lap a red leather-bound book.

"What's that love?" Eureka asked curiously.

"It's the Thurston family album. I thought I had lost this."

"A family album?"

"Kind of. It has pictures of most of my ancestors."

"Oh, ok. We never had anything like that for my family."

Renton gestured to her to come and sit on the sofa with him and take a look back into history through this book he thought was long gone.

"Those pictures look old," she said as she put Linck on her lap.

"That's because they date back to the 1800s..."

"I see. Who's that?"

Renton looked to the picture she was pointing at. Under it was the date 1841 in bold letters. In the picture was a mustachioed man with Renton's style of hair dressed in a grey military uniform and a tall black shako on his head.

"Oh that's Thomas Thurston. He was my great grandfather."

"He was in the military?" asked Linck curiously.

"Yep. That's him when he graduated from West Point. He started out as a second lieutenant."

"Wow."

"Yeah. It's pretty amazing." Renton looked to another picture dated 1847 and found his great grandfather dressed in a blue uniform with gold epaulettes on his shoulders standing with a row of officers. "That was him when he served in the Mexican War. He was a Lieutenant Colonel by the time the war was over."

"Looks like the military is part of your family," Maeter said as she looked at the pictures.

"Yeah. We come from a long line of military service. It's a part of us."

"Are we part of the military now that you're our parents?" Maurice asked.

"That all depends on if you want to serve."

"We're just kids," Maeter chimed in. "We're not allowed in the military."

"No, but when you turn 18, you can enlist."

"So, what was the rest of your family like?" Maeter asked as she tried to uncomfortably shift herself.

"Well," Renton said, trying to recollect, "my mother came from Russia to escape communism. She met Father over here. From what I know, I think her father was a General in the White Army during the Russian Civil War. When the Whites lost, she came over here."

"I see. Momma is part Russian too, right?" Eureka nodded.

"Well, yes I am dear. I'm actually a full Russian. I was living in a slum with no money, no food, and no heat. I met your father when I was a child and, well, basically fell in love with him at first sight. I was in dire straights when he came and got me."

"And I'm glad I did," Renton said smiling. "I wouldn't stand for you living there any longer."

"I probably wouldn't have made it any longer if I had stayed there."

"You're right."

"I know I am. So you see kids, if your father hadn't come and saved me, you wouldn't have a mother right now."

"Is that true Papa?" Linck asked.

"Yes, it is Linck," Renton said smiling. "When I heard that the Germans attacked the city of Stalingrad, I got really worried about your mother. In December I packed up my bags and went back to Russia to see if there was anything I could do to help her. That's when I learned about Stalin, about the gulags, about the Bolsheviks, and when I saw the terrible state your mother was living in. When she asked me to take her back home with me, I couldn't refuse her. I secretly loved her too then, even though I was too young to understand it at the time."

"You loved her and you know it," Maeter said, giggling.

"I know now I loved her then, but I was too young and too caught up with so many other things to realize it. It wasn't until your mother said it to me when I realized I loved her too."

"How sweet." Eureka smiled as she kissed him.

"Thank you, dear. We sure have been through a lot together. I'm glad I took you with me."

"So am I."

Renton smiled as he turned another page and all eyes except Renton's widened at a large photo dated 1862, showing a man who looked much like Renton except for a mustache and small goatee sitting on a black horse and wearing the uniform Renton was now wearing.

"Who is that man?" Maurice asked.

"That's Thomas Thurston...when he was a Major General in the Union Army during the Civil War."

"Neat!"

"Yeah, it is pretty interesting. He was in command of 15,000 men back then, serving in Ulysses Grant's Army during the campaign in Tennessee and Mississippi. When Grant was made General of the Armies in 1864, William Sherman took over command of his old army and he along with General Thurston went on a long campaign through Georgia in the March to the Sea."

"WOOOOW!"

"It's pretty amazing, even for me."

"Sounds like it."

Renton turned another page and found a photo dated 1898. He found a man in a Rough Riders uniform standing with a man in a blue uniform with shaggy black hair shaking hands.

"Who's that?" asked Maeter.

Renton pointed to the man in the Rough Riders uniform. "That's my grandfather Axel Thurston. He served with Teddy Roosevelt in the Rough Riders in the Spanish American War."

"So neat!" Linck said happily.

"Yeah, but can you guess who is the man he is shaking hands with?"

"Uhh, no Papa."

"Well...that's Dominic Sorel's grandfather, Daniel Sorel. He was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army at the time."

"Wow, Dominic's grandpa too!" Maurice said as he got closer to Renton.

"Yeah. His family and mine were very close friends."

"Sounds nice hon," Eureka said smiling.

"Well, it was for a time. That was until the Great War started." He turned another page and they found a picture dated 1917, showing a man in a World War One Doughboy uniform holding a Springfield rifle.

"Who is that darling?" Eureka asked as she looked at the picture.

"That's my cousin Adam. He was killed in the Great War."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"My family took it pretty hard. After the whole mess of the Great War, Father and Uncle and all the others pledged they wouldn't join the military. Dominic's family didn't quit though and that's what caused a huge rift between us..."

"A rift?" Maeter asked curiously.

"We had some pretty big arguments when Dominic's family heard we weren't going to join the military and keep up the tradition."

"That sounds sad Papa."

"It was for a long time. We never really talked with each other for a very long time until it looked like war was going to start again in Europe."

"Is that when things got better between you two?" Linck asked.

"Yes, it was. When we saw Hitler coming to power and eyeing Austria and the Sudetenland, both of us came to realize it looked like war was coming again, and this time it would be different."

"Is that when you first met Momma?"

"Yes, it was."

Renton turned a page and they found a photograph dated 1938. There were three people in the picture. One was a boy, about 12, with scraggly brown hair and wearing a clean white shirt and black knickerbockers. On the boy's right was a boy of the same age, wearing a dark overcoat with his arm slung over the center boy. On the center boy's left was a short girl, about 9, with long dark wavy hair and wearing a two-tone colored dress and boots. A smile ran on each of the figures from ear to ear. Renton and Eureka smiled at seeing the picture.

"Who is the boy on the right?" Maurice asked.

"That's Holland," Renton said smiling.

"He looks funny." Maeter giggled.

"Well, he was a very happy boy when I first met him, just like your mother was a very happy girl."

"Momma looks like she was cute back then." Maurice chuckled.

"Oh Maurice." Eureka giggled.

"She certainly was," Renton said giving his wife a peck on the cheek. "And still is."

"And you were too hon. Back then was when I first realized that for some reason, I was head over heels in love with him. Even for only being nine years old."

"I loved her too, but I was too young to understand, and one of my silly principles stuck to me and kept me from telling her..."

"What happened afterwards?" Maeter asked.

"Well..." Renton and Eureka looked to each other, seeing in their eyes a hard memory trying to find its way out.

"Papa?"

"Well Maeter dear," Eureka explained, "after Renton left the first time, things really went bad for us."

"Hitler took over Czechoslovakia and Austria and was eyeing Poland next," Renton continued, "and no one was listening to the people who were warning about him. When he and Stalin invaded Poland, everything changed."

"And not for the better for any of us," Eureka continued. "Poverty was widespread and Holland and I had nothing but our home and whatever few clothes we had on our backs."

"The worst part of it was," Renton said, trying to hold back tears, "neither I nor your mother could do anything about it. I never had enough money to go back and help your mother until around the time the Germans attacked Stalingrad, and all the money that was made by your mother or Holland was taken away by Stalin."

"Sounds horrible," Maeter said sadly, almost with tears in her own eyes. "What was Momma like when you were finally able to get back to her?

"She was really at the end of her rope. I never realized what a despotic country your mother was living in until I came back to get her. You couldn't say anything or think anything against what Stalin said or else you were sent to the gulags in Siberia. Everyone was extremely poor, and the economy was in a very big slump, for both of us. She was screaming to get out."

"How bad was her home?" Maurice asked.

"Pretty bad," Eureka replied. "We had no heat, no water, no electricity, nothing. We were in a really desperate position."

"And the Communist government only made things worse," Renton said nodding. "You couldn't say anything against the Bolsheviks or Stalin or you would be thrown in jail or forced to starve to death in prison camps."

"Hey Papa," Linck chimed in. "How happy was Momma when you came back to get her?"

"Well, she was really happy to see me. She didn't think she would be able to get out until I came back. Your mother thinks I saved her life by coming back for her."

"And you did dear," she said smiling. "I remember the first kiss we shared. I think it was in our old tree house outside of the city."

"That's right; I remember too," Renton said chuckling at the old memory. "I was so caught off guard. I never had really been kissed like that before. I was happy, though, because I knew I was doing the right thing."

"I also remember the first time we slept together after you brought me here. I couldn't sleep without you for some reason. As soon as you laid by me and I could feel your gentle caring warmth, I just fell asleep, happy to be out of there and home with you, where I belonged."

"And I felt glad I had taken you away from there, made you an American citizen, and made you feel happy for the first time in a long time."

"Sounds too mushy," Maeter said laughing as she listened to the story.

"Well, maybe at your age it does," Renton said, he and his wife laughing. "When you get older, you'll understand."

"I guess that leads to where we are now, right?" Maurice said.

"Right you are," Renton said mussing his son's hair lightly.

"And I wouldn't change a thing," Eureka said softly as she hugged Linck. "I sometimes wish things hadn't gone this way for us, but now I have a wonderful family to watch over and a loving husband to care for. I wouldn't give any of that up for the world."

"And neither would I," Renton said smiling at everyone. "I can't think of having my life any other way."

"Ow, my leg..."

"What's the matter, Maeter? Leg hurting again?"

"I'll get some pain meds Renton," Eureka said. "Just try to keep her comfortable."

"Sure thing, dear. Maeter, lie flat down on the couch and try not to move..."

"Can you help me Papa?" Maeter asked.

"I'm doing that now."

"Renton love," Eureka broke in while searching through the kitchen cabinet, "put a pillow underneath her leg in order to keep the pressure off."

"Okay." Renton put a cushion underneath his daughter's leg, slightly elevating it. "Try not to wiggle around."

"Ow...ok Papa."

"Here you go Maeter," said Eureka as she came back with the pain medication. "Here's some Juice to drink it down with." Renton held his daughter's head up as she took a glass of juice, washing down the medication.

"Thank you Papa," Maeter said smiling.

"It's no trouble, Maeter."

"You're doing wonderful love," Eureka said with a warm smile. "I think we'll do just fine as a family."

"So do I," he said returning her smile. "As long as we're able to stick together and never give up."

"Well would you look at that. She fell asleep on your arm hon."

Renton looked down and saw his adopted daughter sleeping, her head still in the palm of his hand, with an absolute look of calm. "That's too cute..."

"Yes it is dear. Let's let her sleep now. I have to go change Linck's bandages. Can you take care of Maurice?"

"Sure, darling."

"Thank you," she replied with a gentle kiss. As Renton helped Maurice with his wounds, he couldn't help but stare at his wife as she tended to Linck. He now knew in his heart that this family was his life now, no matter what happened to them.

"Thank God I have all of you..." Renton said happily.

"And thank God we have you," Maurice replied. "Thank you for taking us in."

"I love you all enough, Maurice, like Mama and I love each other. I wouldn't think of seeing you kids anywhere else."

"Ok Linck, there you go. Now remember, don't play with them," said Eureka as she finished changing his bandages.

"Ok Momma," he said cheerfully as he ran off to the living room.

"They are truly precious."

"Yes, they are," Renton said. "All of you are. I wouldn't trade you for anything else on God's green earth."

"Same here my love. Not for anything," she replied softly, cuddled up to his side. Their hands intertwined with one another and they were just about to have another one of their "alone moments" when Renton started to itch.

"What's the matter hon?"

"It's this stupid uniform. It's really itchy. I'm going to change back into my other clothes." He got up, scratching himself immensely. "Why did the Union Army make uniforms out of wool!?!" he said crossly.

All Eureka could do was giggle at him as she watched him leave the room. It was moments like this that made her live life to its fullest. She only wondered now how he would do when their daughter started dating when she got older. "Oh my," she said to herself, giggling to herself as the thoughts entered her mind. "Poor Renton is going to go ballistic when she reaches that age."

"I heard that!!" Renton said from his room.

"I didn't say a thing dear," she said as she laughed.

"You can't fool Commander Thurston, ma'am."

"You have yet to prove that Mr. Thurston. You don't know what I have going on in this mind of mine."

"Oh really?" He asked smiling enticingly as she came into his room, catching him pulling up his trousers. "Well I have my ways of trying to get inside that head of yours..."

"Best behave yourself, my dear husband. We have two kids that are still awake out there."

"Let's lock the door then, and be really covert about it..." Renton said waggling his eyebrows.

"Not right now hon," she said as she giggled. "But wait until after they go to bed. _Then_ you'll see what I have planned for you..." She then sauntered seductively back into the living room, giving him that "come and get it" look, showing off what she knew he wanted most.

"Why do you spoil my fun, darling?"

"Well, let's just put it this way love. I'll be your dessert...so make sure you wait up for me."

Renton eyed her, looking down at his pocket watch seeing it was nearly midday. The kids would have their naptime in about a few hours. "Just three more hours...just three more hours..."

And just to tease him, she said, "After dinner, darling." she then gave him one more seductive look before disappearing around the corner to tend to their kids.

Renton looked at his watch and saw that dinner was almost six to seven hours away. "Darn that Eureka." he smiled to himself. "Why does she do this to me sometimes? She knows how much I hate waiting..."

Renton sighed happily as he collapsed onto the small cot, rolling over in his mind how his family would turn out when this campaign against the Reds was over. A wonderful sight. A modest job with good pay. A loving wife to come home to each day. The kids tugging at his coat asking how his day was. It was all he wanted now in this life. It was a shame he had to fight to keep it, but if he could get the life with his family he was looking for, then he was willing to do it. All because he loved them. All of them.

»»»»»

Several days later after GekkoState had went out on more scouting missions, Josh had gone home to meet the infamous Jane Hart. Wearing a tan sport coat, white button down shirt, tan khaki type pants, and brown shoes, he left his home to see what he could do to help the troubled young lady.

Jane sat alone in her two floor house in Belleforest going over in her head all the sins she had ever committed when she heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?"

"Open the door and you'll find out." Jane growled and got up. "If that's supposed to be an attempt at a joke, I'm not amused."

"Who said I was joking?"

"It sounded like you were."

"Will you just open the door? I'd hate to break it down."

"All right! All right!" She walked over to the door and whispered to herself, "impatient..."

"I'm waiting." She opened the door and found a tall auburn-haired mustachioed man not 25 at the oldest. "May I help you?"

"Are you Jane Hart?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Before you get antsy, I'm a friend of Renton Thurston." The name made her seethe in anger.

"RENTON?!?!"

"Hold on there missy, I'm here on my own accord, so relax."

"I thought for a moment you were a GekkoState agent sent to kill me..."

Josh just laughed out loud and said, "Now why would I want to kill a pretty little thing like you? I'm not even military."

"No, by looking at you I can tell you're not. You look to be more of a mechanic type..."

"Part farmer, part mechanic yes. By the way, you can quit hiding that saber. You won't be needing it." Jane unhooked the saber locked in its scabbard from her belt and dropped it on the floor. "Well you didn't have to drop it. I would've let you put it away."

"It's alright with me. I can pick it up later. Now what do you want? Come to sing me a threatening telegram from GekkoState? Come to send a message from Renton?"

"None of the above ma'am. I just came to talk. Renton and Eureka told me all about you so I figured I'd come down and find out more about you."

"I had a feeling they would be the ones to tell you. I supposed they told you about all the 'horrible things' I did."

"I know about those yes, but I won't hold them against you since I don't know you."

"Thank you. But first, who is it I am speaking to?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. The name is Josh. Josh McArthur."

"A pleasure to meet you, Josh." She offered her hand and Josh shook it reluctantly.

"Now, no need to be nervous ma'am. I know you and GekkoState are on bad terms right now, but I'm willing to be your friend if you let me."

"Very well..."

"Well, don't sound so depressed ma'am. I was just offering a gesture of kindness."

"If you're planning on having me go back to GekkoState, you might as well give it up now. I refuse to take part in anything concerning such an arrogant upstart of a man as Renton Thurston."

"Now you best take back those words ma'am. Mr. Thurston is as good as a man as they come. I should know, I grew up with him."

"Did you now?" she said sarcastically.

"Now what did I say ma'am? I'm here on my own accord, so best get that evil look out of your eyes."

"I have nothing to hold against you, Mr. McArthur," she said, offended. "I barely even know who you are!!"

"Good. Now, can you show me that saber a second? I want to show you something. And don't worry, you won't be harmed as I promised. I'm a man of my word."

"If you wish..." she picked up the black saber and handed it to him cautiously.

"Not a bad looking knife." He chuckled. "But do you know what these are good for?"

"Besides dueling?"

"Absolutely nothing," he said as he bent it in half over his knee.

"WHAT?!!" She screeched as she looked wide-eyed at her saber being bent in half, until it was broken.

"Ok, that takes care of that part. Now, I have a little proposition for you."

"You cur! My saber! What kind of contemptible man are you!?! What do you want of me!?"

"How about a nice lunch out on me?"

"A lunch out with YOU?!" she replied wide-eyed, incredulous.

"What's so wrong with that?"

"Well, it's…it's...just so unexpected..."

"It's not a date if that's what you're thinking."

"Certainly not. I'm through with all things like that!"

"Hey, just relax there little lady. Why don't you get ready and I'll wait on your front porch ok?"

"Very well. Wait here..." She went back inside, and looked herself over in her mirror. She was dressed all in black which matched the red hood and cape she wore the last time she met with Renton and wreaked havoc on GekkoState. She went into the washroom to change all the while wondering who this man was...

"Oh, and wear something a little more cheery. That red and black doesn't match you." he yelled through her door.

"I know that already, Mr. McArthur!" she yelled in reply. "You just be patient!!"

"I'll wait all day if I have to ma'am."

"Persistent man..." she whispered to herself as she slipped into something more cheery.

This should be interesting, Josh thought to himself while he waited. She's cute though for an angry little lady. The door opened and out stepped Jane in the blue skirt she always wore before she became the violent hateful woman she was known for. In her flowing blonde hair was the pink ribbon that always resided there. She wore white cotton stockings and black buckle shoes. She looked the way she did when she first met Renton all those years ago.

"Now THAT'S much better Ms. Hart. I'm impressed."

"Thank you, Mr. McArthur. You CAN say sweet things."

"Hey, once you get to know me, you'd be surprised," he replied. "Now shall we?" as he offered his arm.

"Surely..." she said as she hesitantly took it. This would be the first time she had gone out in a while, and she knew what to expect from everyone who had come to know her as the lustful vengeful temptress she had been known for so long; not the best reaction, that was certain.

"Just relax ma'am. So, I'm guessing you're wondering why I'm doing this."

"Well, yes..."

"Well, you see, when Renton and Eureka told me about you and how you were when they first knew you, it sounded like someone I once knew myself. But when the dark side of you came out, I figured why not, I like a challenge. I'd like to meet this girl and maybe get to know her a bit."

"You are brave, and some would say foolish..."

"Now settle down ma'am. You be nice to me and I'll be nice to you."

"Fair enough. Out of curiosity, who is it I remind you of?"

"My ex wife."

"With the life I've led, I'm not surprised..."

"It's not like that Jane."

"Really, now?"

"Yes. The way you were before is just how my ex wife was before she left me."

"How'd your wife leave you? Found another man, I suppose and went gallivanting off with him somewhere..."

"Boy, quick to judge aren't you?"

"You said I reminded you of her..."

"I meant the loving and caring side of you Jane. She had that and all. But the farm life wasn't for her. She longed for the life in the big city. I was out working the fields one day when she left. I came home to a empty bedroom and a broken heart."

"Dear, dear," she said with an empathy she hadn't heard in a long time. "I don't suppose you've found someone already..."

"Actually, no I haven't. I just moved to the area just up the road from Renton and Eureka's."

"Renton lives on the road with GekkoState now. I doubt he'll come back home to Belleforest anytime soon..."

"I know that, but that's the life he chooses to live, and I'll support him all the way with it. I help out with their mechanical repairs from time to time to keep myself busy since I sold my farm."

"How long did you say you knew him?"

"Since we were just little ones. And don't try to get information you can use against him. I know better than that."

"NOW who's quick to judge?"

"Ok, you got me there Ms. Hart." Josh laughed heartily.

"I didn't think he was a farmer. I always took him to be a Belleforest boy..."

"He was until his family went belly up due to the stock market. That's when they moved here."

"Really? Where's his father?"

"Dead."

"The war, I suppose. His mother?"

"She died too if I remember correctly."

"Dear me. What about his brothers and sisters?"

"Those I don't know. It's been years since I've seen him, so I haven't asked much."

"I see..."

"Listen Jane, what did you think of me when I broke your saber?"

"I thought I made it clear I thought you were a loathsome cur for breaking my only saber!"

"Jane, seriously. Look into your heart. Look into that part that is empty and is yearning to be filled. What did you really think?" he replied while he looked at her with serious yet caring eyes. Jane thought for a moment. It was so hard to see what she really thought these days, after years of drowning in the sea of blackness that had resided in her for so long.

"It's telling me...I don't even know anymore. I've been following this path for so long I don't even remember what it was I was trying to get to."

"I see. That's fine. I won't force the situation any further," he replied to her with a warm smile. "But I want you to continue thinking about it. You may be surprised at the answer you come up with."

"If you insist..."

"Jane, you have to trust me on this. Don't do it for Renton, don't do it for Eureka, don't even do it for the GekkoState. Do it for me and I promise things may become clearer for you." Jane looked at him with her deep ocean blue eyes as they walked into the diner.

"What is it you're hoping to gain from seeing me, and taking me out to lunch like this, Mr. McArthur?"

"Just a new friend, a new hope, and possibly if I can help you right, a whole new bright future with a history you can work past. How's that for a start?"

"It would not be enough to make up for all the wrongs I have done, but it would be a step in the right direction. I've had no one to look to ever since Renton and I parted ways all those months ago. I'm the persona non grata, I guess you could say."

"I never said you had to make up for them Jane. I know some things like that can never be done. But I can help you work around them and learn from them, make a better future for yourself by doing that."

"You might as well give that up, Mr. McArthur. I've betrayed everyone, from Renton on down. I turned my back on everything I thought I believed in. I killed innocent people because I was caught up in a lust for revenge. How can anyone make a better future for one's self with those sins on one's conscience?"

"You can do it Jane. You can do it with me. I'll never give up on a friend," he said as he stared at her with his deep brown eyes, penetrating her blue ones with a feeling she's never felt before. She turned away as they sat down at a small corner booth.

"I can't, Mr. McArthur. How can I atone for all the wrongs I've done everyone? How can I make amends with the people I've betrayed time and again? How can I atone for all I've done?"

"With love and support," he replied as he gently took her shaking hand. "I'm willing to do that for anyone, regardless of the situation." She pulled her hand back, ashamed.

"How can anyone support me? Everyone practically despises me for everything I've done. And no one loves me, Mr. McArthur. I thought Renton loved me when I met him, until I learned how he had his eyes set on that girl."

"That was his destiny Jane. Some things are meant to be, some aren't. But there is someone out there for you Jane, just waiting to hold you and love you for who you are, not your past."

She scoffed softly. "Name one person, Mr. McArthur."

"How about me for starters?"

"I barely know you, Mr. McArthur!"

"I know that." he chuckled. "But I'm willing to get to know you. Are you willing to get to know me?"

She stirred in her head, never hearing before the words from someone she longed to hear. Never before hearing the words "I love you" from anyone. She thought she was finally finished after what had happened, and that no one could ever love her. No one in their right mind could. Until now, this perfect stranger has said it!

"Listen Jane, I know you have a lot going on in your head right now, so I'll take my time. I don't want to rush you, so if you feel uncomfortable just let me know."

"Not right this minute. But to answer your question, yes, I am willing to get to know you."

"That's a start right there." he smiled. "So, what's good on this menu?"

"The root beer floats here are pretty good..." she said with a certain sense of dread in her voice.

"Why do so you sound so sorrowful for Ms. Hart?"

"Pretty much everyone knows who I am. I'm not really welcome in most places around here anymore..."

"Well you're with me. If there's a problem, I'll take care of it."

"If you insist..." At that moment a waiter came up with a pad and pencil in his hand.

"What can I get you..." He soon cast his eyes on the girl and soon recognized who she was. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Excuse me sir, but she's with me. Is there a problem?"

"We don't serve her kind here. You can stay."

"If I can stay, she stays," he said as he stood up.

"Josh please..." she said feeling worse than she ever did in her life.

"No Jane, I've got it," he said in a serious tone. "Listen punk, I've got more than enough money to buy this place out and send you to the unemployment office on your ass. Now, I'm sure this lady has never done anything to harm you, so you will show her respect. If not, I'll teach you and your boss what that is." Hap, the manager of the diner, soon arrived on the scene and turned to the waiter.

"What's going on here, Joe?"

"This young man that you call a waiter was disrespecting this nice young lady." Josh replied, showing off his six and a half foot muscular tone. Hap looked and saw who the young lady was. He scowled at her and turned back to Josh.

"You got a lot of guts defending her, after all the stuff she's pulled."

"Did she ever do anything to you?"

"She betrayed all of us for everything she's done!"

"Josh, listen..." Jane pleaded.

"Have you forgotten you fool? A person can repent for their sins. They may not be able to make up for their past, but we can give them a better future by helping them work through it. And Jane, quiet please. I've got it covered ok?" he said as he looked at her with caring eyes.

"You're wasting your time on her, Mister. She's a gone goose," Hap said folding his arms. "I don't want to throw you out."

"You wouldn't be able to if you tried. And no one on this world is a lost cause if you just look in your heart and reach your hand out to them. I'm sure Renton would tell you the same thing."

"Renton...I think I know what Renton would say, ok, Mac? I think he would say and rightfully so, that she betrayed everyone she knew and turned her back on her country. A regular Benedict Arnold, if you ask me! You honestly think someone like her can make up for things like that? I think not. Sir, if you know what's good for you, you'll sit down. We don't serve her kind here and that's final."

"I told you, Josh," Jane said desperately.

"Idiot. I talked to Renton. He let me know who she is. He gave me her address. I came down to help. And I, unlike you, won't give up on a person in need of a friend and a loving hand to help them through rough times."

"Josh, stop it!" Jane said at last. "I told you already this would happen. Let's just go somewhere else."

"I live life on one phrase my friend, and I suggest you take it to heart. And no Jane. These people need to learn how to help their fellow man, no matter what they did or where they came from."

"Do you want to get banned from this place too?!" Jane protested.

"We won't Jane. I'm doing this as a gentleman, not a fighter. I'm just trying to prove a point."

"I got a point I like to make to you, bud," Hap said sternly. "I don't know if Renton talked to you and frankly I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, she's not welcome here, and neither will you be if you keep this up. When you walk through those doors, you play by my rules! If you know what's good for you, you'll both leave now. I'll give you one minute."

"What's your name sir?"

"Hap Dangerfield. Why?"

"Ok Hap. I've got a question to ask you in front of these nice people here."

"Is this some kind of joke, Mister? It's not funny!"

"Who said I was joking?" he asked with a serious tone, his brown eyes sending daggers into Hap's.

"What's your question, wise guy?"

"How often are you helping your fellow man? How often are you fighting to protect your nation? How often are you extending your hands to help a friend in need? Did you ever consider doing that when Jane here ran into her problems? Did you ever think about doing that before she did all those evil things? Well, did you? Prove to me what kind of man you are Hap."

"What kind of question is that? I spent almost every single cent I made running this place to buy bonds in the war, and I still give every single cent I make to GekkoState so they can fight the Reds. I'm a registered GekkoState member and spokesman here! If she has problems, she can go see a psychiatrist! As far as I'm concerned and as far as everyone else is concerned, she betrayed every single person she knew in this town, and betrayed her country. Nothing can make up for that." Jane sank lower in her chair as she felt the many eyes of all the people in the diner staring at her, knowing who she was.

"You may be a member, but how often are you out there fighting for your fellow man? How often are you putting your life on the line for them?"

"You think every member of GekkoState fights, bud? There are hundreds of us spreading the word everywhere, trying to get support for the cause. That's how I'm fighting for my fellow man."

"Josh, this is embarrassing..." Jane said again.

"Those are just words Hap. Words prove nothing in this world. It's your actions that prove what kind of man you are. And if you call these words fighting, then you're just as pathetic as the next person."

"You best watch your mouth bud. You want to get banned from this place too?"

"I agree with him," said one of the customers. "I support GekkoState to the fullest, but I've never seen you leave this diner Hap, and I've been coming here for years."

"Same here," said another woman. "And if that man is willing to help that girl, then I'll support him too. She may not be able to cover for her sins, but if he's willing to help her work past them, so be it."

"That doesn't give her the credence to come here and be among the people who are supporting our boys putting their lives on the line," the waiter said finally.

"Shut up you jerk," said yet another customer. "All you do is wait on people all day. We never see you do anything for your country."

"I give all my money to GekkoState! You call that nothing!"

"Like that man said, money and words are nothing in this world. It's your actions that prove what kind of man you are."

"HERE HERE!" the other customers yelled in chorus. Hap and the waiter looked at each other worriedly, seeing they were outnumbered on this one.

"Hap, I've got some other words for you," said Josh as he looked around.

"What is it this time?" Hap said with a sense of dread.

"We are not here to see through one another. We are here to see one another through." No one had anything to say to that. "So Hap, what do you have to say now?"

"What will you have, sir?" he said grudgingly.

"Hap, don't sound upset. I'm a friend to everyone. I just had to prove a point." Hap grumbled to himself as he walked to the back of the counter, knowing he lost this fight. The waiter turned back to them and asked again, "What will you two be having?"

"What's your special today?"

"Veggie burger. Will that be for both of you?"

"Nah, I'm not much of a veggie eater. You've got regular burgers right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Give me the biggest one you've got. What will you be having Jane?"

"Just a root beer float. I'm not that hungry..."

"Get her a small salad too. A woman should eat too you know." Jane growled to herself as the waiter scribbled the order down on the notepad. "Anything to drink?"

"Two root beer floats."

"Very good sir," the waiter said with a grudging respect in his voice as he walked away.

"That was an ordeal," Jane said sighing heavily.

"Yeah well, you have to prove your point somehow in life. I just tend to do it when I feel the need to."

"You made the quite the scene," Jane said laughing quietly.

"I may have, but I got the support of others around you didn't I?"

"I suppose. I think you might have some more resistance around here though."

"I can deal with it. Let me do one more thing though."

"What is that, Josh?"

He then stood up once again and said loudly "Everyone, your attention please."

"Oh no..." Jane groaned.

"I want to thank you all for your support and kindness. Make sure you remember what happened here today. Spread the word that a new man is in town, and that he'll show how to help fight and care for your fellow man. So without further ado, root beer floats for everyone, on me!"

Everyone cheered as Josh sat back down and smiled at Jane, burying her head in embarrassment in her arms.

"What's the matter Jane?" he chuckled. "You're all red."

"You didn't have to do that, Josh..."

"Well I felt like I had to."

"Well, I can't stop you, but just know how it's so embarrassing..." she said starting to laugh.

"It may be, but it's for everyone's good."

"Perhaps. Maybe people around here believe in redemption like you do, but I doubt you can give the same story back to everyone in GekkoState and get the same favorable response..."

"Maybe not, but I can try can't I?"

"You can try all you want. I won't stop you. Just know you're setting yourself on a collision course with everyone there."

"Oh well. But Jane, there is one thing though."

"It's not another speech, is it?"

"No, not at all." he chuckled.

"What then?"

"I want you to do this with me," he replied as he took her hands.

"W...What are you doing, Josh?"

"Jane, you want to try to repent for your sins right?"

"More than anything."

"Then do this with me. We won't be members of GekkoState, but we'll send everything we get to them. This will be something we do on our own."

"Something? What?"

"We'll start our own support drive. With the funding we get, we can stop Dewey once and for all. You want that, right?"

"To be honest, after everything...I don't know which side is right anymore."

"Jane, what has Dewey ever done that's proved his point during this campaign?"

"I don't know, but what has Renton done that has proved his point?"

"Well, let me put it this way. How many innocent lives has Renton had to kill to prove his point?"

"Well, none that I can recollect, but..."

"And what about Dewey?"

"I don't know."

"I can go home and give you the stats to that Jane. He's killed hundreds, if not thousands. I get all my records straight from the U.S military."

"How do you do that? You don't work for the military...do you?"

"I get them because I'm friends with Renton, so I have connections here and there."

"Of course..."

"Are you familiar with Maurice, Maeter, and Linck?"

"Are those the little children that followed Renton around? What about the three?"

"Do you remember the last one-on-one duel you had with Renton after you destroyed those two buildings?"

"Yes...I wish I didn't..."

"You killed their parents Jane. Renton and Eureka, with their kind hearts, took them in after they got seriously injured in the blast. Did that prove anything to you at all?"

"It proved to me once the whole fiasco was over that I was the worst kind of person on this earth. In the eyes of God, I am more worthless and less fit to live than millions like those poor children. That's what it proved to me."

"You're not the worst Jane. You're far from it," he said as he held her hands tight. "The only devil on this land is Dewey."

"I once thought like you did, Josh. Back in the war, I thought we were actually fighting for something greater, that lovely intangible of 'freedom' Renton talks about so much. But when the war ended, and this whole thing started, I started to wonder what it was we were really after. After all, by engaging these Soviet agents, we would essentially start a war with the Soviet Union, a former ally no less. I started to wonder if we were just looking around trying to pick a fight with a nation of our choosing so we could gain something out of it. Not preserving that intangible, but something for personal gain. I started to wonder if we were doing this to preserve democracy, or just to attain more power for ourselves..."

"This great country of ours isn't looking for power Jane. It never has been. We fight for the freedom of other countries. We prefer to be allies, not enemies. It's always been that way since I've lived on this great land. Has the U.S shown anything otherwise to you?"

Jane laughed. "You sound like Renton. I once believed that. But when the whole thing started, I started to wonder if this was really an idealistic crusade like Renton proclaimed it to be, or if there was something more behind it. If we were only hoping for aggrandizing power by striking down another nation and soon we go around 'spreading democracy' when what we're really doing is just increasing our power. I'm not a native of this land, Josh. I'm from Britain, myself. And ever since I came here after my home was destroyed in the Blitz, I thought this was the greatest country on earth, like you believe. But when we turned our eyes on the Soviet Union...That's when I started doubting."

"Jane, listen to me carefully ok? We don't fight for power. We don't fight for democracy. We fight for the freedom of mankind. We help other countries when we're called to help defend their freedoms, their way of life. When we're done, we leave with a thank you and a you're welcome, knowing we did our job. Does that sound like power to you?"

"No, it doesn't."

"That's because that's how we live. That's how it's always been. What do you think Renton and the others have been trying to tell you?"

"You don't understand. When I joined GekkoState, I didn't care about all that. All I wanted was him. I knew he was married but I still wanted him. When he told us at the first meeting just what they were planning, I was the first to protest starting another war and bring more suffering to our town, to our country. I was the first to protest starting another war so soon after winning one at a devastating cost. It just didn't sound right to me. And I began to think in my mind, 'what can we hope to gain from all this? What does HE hope to gain?' That's what started me on the path to where I am now."

"Jane, if GekkoState didn't react to Dewey the way they did, where do you think we'd be now?"

"I don't know. I figured we could negotiate something somehow, but everyone else told me there was no choice but to fight. I refused to believe it."

"Negotiating would've been an option yes, but unfortunately there isn't always a happy ending to that. Sometimes fighting is the only way to protect what you love and care for."

"That was what I hated so much about this whole thing."

"I feel the same way Jane, believe me. But we have to face a hard and sad reality everyday we live. I'm not a fighter myself by any means. I use my own words and actions to get through life. And look at me now."

"I see you. I only wish words could resolve everything. No one listened to me about that."

"That's how it is sometimes Jane. Jane, look at me seriously for a second. Look into my eyes. What do you really see?"

"I see someone trying to help his fellow man."

"What else do you see? Look deeper."

"I see..." Jane looked hard but the lust that remained benign and the blackness that was slowly dissipating in her heart still clouded her vision. It was so hard for her to see the truth, the truth that had to be known.

"I don't know what else. But I want to know."

"It's love, caring, and passion for my fellow man Jane."

"Now, when I can't see it, when I can't see anything like that anymore, do you tell me! I've been drowning myself and I can't even see the things like that anymore..." She hung her head, ashamed.

"You can Jane," he said gently as he lifted her head with his hand. "You want to know why I believe that?"

"Why?"

"Because that same love, caring, and passion that I have for my fellow man is the same thing I feel for you, a friend in need." Jane's ocean blue eyes widened, trying to understand what she just heard. "Are you trying to say..."

"I'm not saying anything Jane. I've only met you for the first time today. So let's not get hasty here." he laughed gently. "But we're definitely off to a very good start."

"That I can see..." Jane said as she slid out of his hand. She thought to herself, does this man love me?

"Good Jane. Now, our lunch is here. How about we eat now and get to know each other personally?"

"Certainly..." She said, smiling for the first time in years as they calmly ate their lunch.

"And afterwards, how does a nice walk around town sound?"

"Sounds wonderful, Mr. McArthur."

"Good. So tell me, how are you feeling now?"

"I feel alright right now..."

"Just alright? Jeez, I guess my touch must be slipping a bit." Josh laughed.

"Not at all," Jane laughed. "I must say you are a very funny man. I can see why Renton had you as his friend." Something stayed in Jane's heart as more time was spent with this man. Something repeated itself in her heart as more time went by with this man she was meeting for the first time.

"So, is your salad ok or do I have to go beat the cook?"

"You don't have to do that," she laughed again. "Besides, I'd hate to see us both thrown out of here."

"Please. I could toss these guys like they were toys. If you don't believe me, ask Dominic." She looked out the window and sighed with a sense of wistfulness. "Dominic...I'm sure he and the others are glad to be rid of me. What did you do to him, Mr. McArthur?" Josh just laughed and told Jane of the situation the Dominic got himself into, trying not to cry from the laughing at the same time.

"For some reason," Jane said laughing, "I'm not surprised. Dominic is an instigator."

"Yeah, but you probably wouldn't believe he'd get himself in that deep."

"I might...If you gave me a convincing story..."

"You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you," she said with a smile.

"Uh huh, sure you do Ms. Hart," he replied with a mischievous smile.

"How deep did he get himself in?"

"Well, considering I reduced him to the mentality of a five year old for about twenty four hours, I'd say pretty deep."

"Really? That bad?"

"He may be an instigator, but he does have some sense..."

"Not this time he didn't."

"Of that, I can tell..." she said chuckling.

"So, about you. Where is this loving and caring Jane that I keep hearing about?"

"That Jane is long gone, believe me...I lost her when I first dueled with Renton."

"No she isn't. She's just in hiding."

"What makes you think so?"

"Just call it a hunch," he said as he walked up to the counter and paid their bill.

"I suppose he told you about that too."

"Oh, but of course. That's the Jane I'm most interested in seeing. I'm not leaving you alone until I do."

"Oh dear..." she laughed. "You might have a long night."

"A night, a day, a week, a month, a year, I don't care. I'm not leaving you alone until it comes back for good."

"That Jane had her eyes set on one person, and that was Renton. And she kept persisting long after the signs had been shown that he loved another. I lusted. God help me, I lusted! And I paid the price for it."

"Well now you've got me. Will that do for now?"

"For now..."

"Ooh, that comment actually hurt a bit."

"Why's that?"

"Just the way you said it," he replied as he took her arm as they left the diner.

"That's the part of me that took the other Jane's place then. That's the Jane I became. I've never felt any other way since we first dueled. I didn't love him any more after that. I hated him, and I wanted to take revenge on him. I know you're his friend, and it's a terrible thing for me to say, but that was how it was."

"Well, that was then Jane. I'm here now to help you. They never gave up on you then and they never will now. But since they can't be here, I am."

"They gave up on me a long time ago, Josh. That was the moment when the other part consumed me and turned me into the one I became."

"Well you're wrong Jane."

"How am I wrong, Josh?"

"If I remember correctly, Renton said that during one of your duels, he said that they would always be your friends. Am I wrong on that?"

"No, you're right. But what kind of friend is he? He rejected me when I said I loved him. He was never there when I had to live with myself after what I did, and he wasn't there for me when all shut me out. He was too busy fighting his merry little war."

"Did he admit that mistake?" She hesitated. She knew in her heart he did. "Well Jane? Did he?"

"He did."

"You have your answer then."

"What answer? Oh..."

"I was going to say, are you that blind Jane?"

"I let my emotions get the better of me. I allowed myself to be manipulated by the Reds. Twice. I guess you could say I am that blind."

"Well now you have a third chance, and they always say that's the charm. So what do you say?"

"I suppose...sure."

"Good," he replied with a warm smile. "So, where's a good spot to talk at around here?"

"There's a park near here. Over there." she pointed to a vast green field bordered by woodlots.

"Well let's go then. Does it overlook the city at all?"

"Not really..."

"That's fine. It'll work. Besides, I want to show you something anyways."

"What is it?" she asked out of curiosity as they entered the park.

"You'll see. Let's go over on top of that small hill over there next to that tree."

"All right..." she said not knowing what would happen as they went to the top of the hill.

"Ahh, it gives us a nice enough view," he said when they reached the top.

She looked out and saw hundreds of houses set against an afternoon sky, blue as her eyes. Farther on she saw Sausalito, the shipyards that had built the ships that won the war, before this one. She looked further, and she thought she could see a small part of San Francisco. "I've never seen such a beautiful view..."

"This Jane, is what we fight for," he said as he stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. "This is the freedom we protect."

"I...I...don't know what to say..." she said as a tear came to her eye.

"This Jane, is what Dewey is trying to destroy. I don't care if you believe that or not, but it's the truth."

Jane just listened to the words flowing out of him. The sea of blackness that she was drowning herself in for so long was starting to dissipate and recede, as she heard the thing repeating in her heart again. The thing that made the other Jane she thought was long gone start to come back and join her.

"This Jane, is what I'm willing to help you with." he continued on as he gently took one of her hands. "But only if you're willing to let me help you."

"I...I will."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said as he gripped her hand tighter.

Another tear rolled down her cheek as she started to feel the blackness she thought had long consumed her recede and shrink, further and further. The thing kept repeating itself. The thing that made her have hope.

"What's the matter Jane? Did I upset you?"

"No..." she said smiling. "I never thought I could feel this way again. I thought moments like this would never come back."

"They will if you open your heart to them Jane." The thing said itself in her heart again, making her smile brighter. There still was such a thing as forgiveness.

"Are you willing to open your heart to those feelings Jane?"

"I...am. It may be hard for me, but I am."

"Are you willing to open your heart...to me?" She turned to him and saw a friend. Something she had not seen in a long time. "I am."

"What are you feeling now?"

"Happy. I feel something else, but can we go home? I feel comfortable telling you there."

"Jane, you can tell me anything anywhere. There is no need to feel uncomfortable."

Jane smiled and they walked back to her home holding each other's hand tightly. There was something else in her heart that was repeating itself. Something that made her spirit soar.

"So, Jane," said Josh as they walked along. "If we get through this together, do you think you'll be able to talk to your friends again?"

"Maybe. I have to see." They reached her door and she spoke to him seriously. "Josh, I might not be able to stand up again for a long while, but my heart did tell me something today when you broke my saber. It said to me, 'There's a way to be good again.' I'm glad you took me out today, Josh. Thank you...for giving me the hope that there's a way to be good again."

"No problem Jane. Listen, it's still early. Maybe I can make us some coffee and talk some more. But if not, that's ok too."

"I would like nothing better..." She showed him in to spend the rest of their day together talking to each other and exposing the side of Jane she thought was long dead.

* * *

A/N: I think I see some hope for Jane in the future with Josh. There is always a way to be good again. Anyway, here's a preview of the next chapter: 

_A few weeks after meeting the boy's friend from the farmlands, the young blonde uncovers another one of the beast's plots to kill the boy. The boy's friend confides in her a deep secret and it is now time for the blonde to atone for her many sins._

**Next time: A Way to be Good Again**


	30. Chapter 30: A Way to be Good Again

**Chapter Thirty: A Way to be Good Again**

**May 24****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere in the hills of northern Marin County, California**

Weeks and weeks had passed since Renton and his family had returned home. He had eluded the UBF, and the Commissar knew the only way for this Revolution to succeed is to get rid of the man who had stood in his way from the very start: Renton Thurston. Efforts to get rid of him had failed again and again. Jane had deserted him, but he thought she still had loyalties to the Soviets; she was just too cowardly to try again, or so he thought. Neither side dared attack, each entrenched in their own defenses. The UBF was dug in along the hills, and the GekkoState Alliance forces were dug in along the villages. As the UBF tried to rebuild his strength, the Ageha sisters had an intelligence breakthrough and had at last found the location of Renton Thurston. This time they would not fail. They mustn't.

"We have recently received some intelligence the Colonel may find interesting," Ageha A said to the Commissar as the five sisters followed the Colonel through the hallways of the hidden headquarters.

"What is it, Ageha A?"

"We have uncovered the location of Renton Thurston." The Colonel turned to the five sisters and looked at them with cold ice blue eyes.

"Where is he?"

"He is with his wife and adopted children back home in Belleforest."

"He is not at the front?"

"Nyet, Comrade Colonel."

"He is more naïve than I thought. This will work to our advantage. He is without protection at his home, a perfect target."

"We have chosen one of our best snipers for this mission." They turned a corner and the Colonel came face to face with the chosen assassin.

He had a young face with freckles, matted red earth hair spread to the right of his bony hollow face, eyes burning with a red fire. He held in his hand a scoped Mosin-Nagant rifle, polished and bolt open. He wore a traditional Red Army uniform with tall black jackboots, insignia on his shoulder straps denoting the rank of Sergeant and a garrison cover on his head, a red pentagonal star with the hammer and sickle superimposed in the center. He had the look of poise and blind devotion to a cause that was dying every day.

"What is your name, Comrade Sergeant?"

"Igor Letlev, Comrade Colonel."

"Have you been briefed for the mission?"

"Da, Comrade Colonel. Assassinate Renton Thurston, leader of the GekkoState Alliance."

"You are to use any means necessary. Do not pause; show no mercy. If anyone gets in your way, you are to kill them. Do whatever must be done to accomplish your mission."

"Da, Kamrad Polkovnik. Renton Thurston will die."

"You are dismissed. You know what to do."

"Da, Kamrad Polkovnik." He left the headquarters to board a car and head to Belleforest to kill the man who was becoming an annoyance for the Colonel. The Agehas and the Colonel looked on.

"How good is he?" the Colonel asked.

"He was one of the best snipers at the Infantry Academy in Podolsk," Ageha B said. "He will not fail."

"He mustn't. This must not fail."

"Yes, Comrade Colonel."

»»»»»

**May 25****th****, 1946**

**Belleforest, California**

Jane and Josh had not heard much from each other since they first met, but there was something happening inside each of them. There was a bond growing between them, though what it was they could not tell, at least Jane couldn't. Josh knew somehow what it was and it was something wondrous, something that offered redemption to her, something that offered her a chance to be good again, to mend all the broken parts of her existence. Josh had decided not to wait around any more. He decided to tell her now. He was always a man to get things out in the open quickly.

"So Jane, What do you think of a nice picnic lunch at the park?" Josh asked three weeks later when he surprised her at her door.

Jane smiled at the sight of him. "Josh! I wasn't expecting to see you again! I'd love to go on a picnic."

"What do you mean expected not to see me again?" he said, chuckled.

"It was just so unexpected! I would think you would call and tell me you were coming."

"I thought a nice little surprise was in order. Bring a jacket or sweater. It's a little cool out today, but still comfortable."

Jane looked and found her cape and hood. "Will that do?"

"Nope. That's something I don't want to see on you again."

"Very well, then. I have a coat. Stay here and wait."

"I have something better."

"What?"

"I went out and bought you a nice sweater for you to enjoy. I thought it went well with your dress."

Jane saw him produce a blue button-up crocheted sweater from back and her eyes widened in delight at the sight of it.

"It's perfect Josh! It really does match my dress!"

"I'm glad you like it. I thought of you when I saw it on the way here."

"Well, thank you, Josh. It's really very nice. Now let's go, shall we? Do you have everything for the picnic?"

"Yep. It's all in this basket here. I just ran out of glasses. Forgot to do dishes," he said, chuckling.

Jane smiled. "Wait here. I have some."

"Thanks."

Jane went quickly to the kitchen and found some glasses in the cupboard. She then ran back to the front door and presented them to Josh.

"Ok, we're all set then. Come on, it's a lovely day out."

"Of that, I can see."

Jane stepped out and walked with Josh down the path they took to the park three weeks before, finding a spot on the hill where they look out on the bay area. They spread themselves out on the hill and talked to themselves, sounding to the other like they had known each other their entire lives.

"Who knew that the salt air could smell so good," Josh said as the breezes blew by them.

"I never did. I never had the fortune of going down there, back in Britain or here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, back in Britain, my family lived in a London flat far from the Dover cliffs. And when we came here during the Blitz, my family bought a house in town, away from the beach. I never had the opportunity to go down there."

"Well now you do."

"I know, but it's nice here. Next time. Next time."

"Maybe over the summer. I'll take you out to the country too where I once lived. It's really a gorgeous area."

"Renton used to live out there. You told me, didn't you? We could go by his farm."

"That we can."

"What was life like back then on the farm? Renton never told me that much about it."

"Quiet, peaceful, nobody around to bug you. The closest neighbor next to you is almost a mile away."

"Must get lonely out there."

"Actually not at all. With all the work that had to be done, you never had the chance to be bored or lonely."

"What work did you do?"

"I raised cattle and grew corn. I had no one to help me. I did it all myself."

"No one, eh? What about Renton's family? What did they do?"

"Same thing. Unfortunately when their stocks went bad...things fell apart and they had to leave."

"I heard about that. They sold the farm and kept the money."

"That they did. It's alright though. Sometimes things work out for the best. He's doing alright though. A wonderful wife, three going on four great kids, he's really got it made."

"Some people have all the luck," she said turning away, depressed.

"Hey, you do too Jane."

"What luck has ever come to me? I ruined my life and every chance I ever had at trying to mend it."

"No you didn't. Want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because, you met me."

Jane looked at this man she felt like she knew forever, and saw sincerity in his brown eyes, looking into her ashamed ocean blue.

"So believe me Jane, you haven't ruined anything yet. Not in my books."

"What do you qualify as ruined, then?"

"Someone who has completely given up on life and their beliefs. And I know that you, Jane, haven't done that yet."

"But look at what I have done! How is that not ruining my life?" she asked with tears in her eyes.

"JANE! Who cares about your past! It's what you believe in now that counts."

Jane turned away again. "I've found it hard to believe in something again, after falling so many times..."

"I'll help lift those spirits Jane. That's what I'm here for," he replied as he took her into a gentle hug, looking off into the distance.

Jane was taken by surprise at this. Her eyes widened and wanted to pull away but found she couldn't. Why couldn't she? What was it that was stopping her? Why is it she always felt so at ease and comfortable with this man, this man she had barely known for three weeks? What was it?

"I'll never leave your side."

"I...I...I don't want you to."

"I just said I wouldn't, didn't I?" he chuckled in reply.

"I know, but I won't let you anyway," she said, a small smile coming to her face that had the signs of pain and agony engraved upon it.

"Any pain you have in your heart, I'll help ease it. Any agony you're feeling, I'll help heal it. Any heartache you feel, I'll be there to repair it."

"Thank you..." she rested her head on his shoulder. "...dear."

"Did I just hear you say what I thought you did?"

"What? Dear? I...I guess I did say it."

"Well then. That's quite the pleasant surprise."

"I wasn't expecting it either..." She inched closer to him, letting him tighten his embrace.

"Because I was going to say something first."

"What is that, pray tell?"

Josh just chuckled lightly and said, "Even though I've only known you for a few weeks now, I could tell that there was something different, special about you. That's why I wanted to stick around, to help ease your pain and suffering. But along the way, something amazing happened."

"What was that?" She somehow knew what he was going to say next. She was ready to hear him say it, however. Whenever she was with him, she didn't feel afraid anymore.

"Man, I'm almost afraid to say it," he said, laughing.

"I'm not afraid to hear it," she said quietly. "I'm not afraid of anything anymore. Not since you came into my life."

"Are you sure? I just don't want to scare you away."

"I'm not afraid, Josh. Thanks to you."

"Well, ok then. That amazing thing that happened, even though I don't know how, was that I fell in love with you, Jane."

Jane's eyes widened. "You...you...you love me?"

"Yes, I do. I love you Jane."

Jane hid her face in his sternum, crying. "No one...no one...has...ever said that to me...before."

"Well now someone has, and I'm glad it was me," he said with a warm smile as he held her close to his heart. "And don't you ever forget that, my dear Jane."

"I will never, dear Josh."

"But the question is, do you love me?"

Jane swallowed hard. Was it possible? After everything that had ever happened to her? After sinning countless times, after meeting this man only a few weeks before? But how? She was always comfortable and hopeful around him. She always felt safe with him. She always felt there was still such a thing as redemption...because of him.

"I...I..."

"Yes Jane?"

She thought to herself, who am I fooling? I can't hide any more. I'm tired of running away, tired of being afraid and hopeless. I'm tired of feeling forgiveness is not possible. "I don't know why, Josh...but...I...do."

"Do what?" he smiled.

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?" she whined.

"You scared?"

"I'm not afraid anymore, Josh. I don't want to be. I'm tired of running away. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of feeling redemption is not possible. Yes, Josh, I love you. Because you gave me the feeling there is a way to be good again. Because you gave me the courage to...hope."

"I was hoping you'd say that, my love," he replied with loving eyes. Jane had never seen that sort of look before, not even from her friends. But for some reason when she looked into his eyes, she felt a sense of calm, peacefulness, and the one feeling she had been searching for all this time: love.

"I'm glad I did, Josh. I thought Renton was the only one for me, and after everything that ever happened between Renton and I, I thought there was no hope left for me. That there was no hope for forgiveness for me. That was...until you came."

"And I'm glad I did," he replied. What he did surprised her next. He laid her on her back on the ground and gave her a passionate kiss, totally taking her breath away at the feel of it.

She couldn't stop him, and she couldn't find a way of stopping herself from getting out of this position. She finally felt the thing she was searching for all this time, and she reveled in it. The feeling of love. The feeling of someone missing in her life. "Josh..."

"Yes, my love?"

"Why do you love me?"

"Don't you worry about that my dear. All you need to know is that I'll always be at your side. That is my sole promise to you. It's one that I will never break."

"I know you never will, Josh, just as you never chose to give up on me, but I must know."

"Well, if you must know, then I guess I should tell you. It's the person that I'm looking at right now that I fell in love with. Someone who is caring, loving, faithful, and is willing to do anything to protect her friends and family. That Jane, is what I fell in love with."

"That is the Jane I thought was dead, the Jane I killed when I betrayed everyone."

"No love. That is the Jane I see in your eyes right now."

"Josh..."

She returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, knowing he was right. The Jane she thought was gone forever was back and living, beating in her heart, despite how many times she had turned to darkness and sin. There was always a way to be good again.

"That is the Jane that I know I'll never lose, no matter what happens."

"I thought she was gone forever, but you were right. She was hiding, and it just took the right person to bring her out again. I would never have been able to bring her back if it hadn't been for you. Thank you Josh...so much. A thousands times over."

"No need to thank me. I have one more present for this special occasion then."

"What is that, dear?"

He then pulled a ring out of his pocket. "I want you to wear this. This ring is yours to remind you of the love and passion I have for you. It is my proof and yours that I will always be at your side not only as your friend, but as your lover as well."

Jane looked at the ring with surprised eyes. "Are you...proposing to me, Josh?"

"It's not an engagement ring Jane. It's still a little early for that," he said, laughing gently. "It's just a promise that I'll be with you always. Besides, I don't want to move quite that fast in our relationship."

Jane let Josh slide the ring onto her finger, shards of light dancing in her eyes. A symbol of a promise. A promise to never give up on one another. A promise to stand by one another to the bitter end. She was happy with that. She was happy now, now that she had found someone to love.

"But I do know one thing for sure Jane..."

"What is that, Josh?"

"You are the one woman I plan on spending my life with, have a family with, and grow old with."

"And you are the one man I plan on doing the same. I know that now. I don't know how, but I know. And I'm not afraid."

"That's good dear." Just then Josh tensed up, like something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Josh?"

"I don't know. I've got a weird feeling about something."

"Like what kind of feeling?"

"It's not good. I only feel like this when Renton is in trouble or in danger. It's been like this since I've known him. Something is foul in the air."

Jane stood up. "We must go. If you feel that way, then I think another plot to kill Renton is in the works."

"Are you sure?" he said as they tried to pack their things.

"I'm sure. If Renton is in danger, I know of only one thing that could be putting him in danger: another one of the Commissar's plans to kill Renton."

"Let's make sure then. I'd hate to say it love, but we need Anemone and Dominic. It's the only way we can stop any attempt on Renton's life."

Jane and Josh ran down back to her house to try and prepare themselves in any way possible. "They're too far away, Josh; there's no time. I must do it myself."

"But don't you want to confirm any intelligence at all to make sure?"

"I can feel it in my bones, Josh. We have little time." She slipped out of her sweater and put back on the red hood and cape she used to wear. "I must do this myself."

"But love..."

"Josh, please don't argue. It's time for me to make up for my sins."

He then sighed heavily, knowing she had to fight one last time. "Ok, but we have to go to my place first."

"What for?" she said as she looked out the window of her house. She saw a ten story apartment. She looked closely and saw something sticking out of a window on the third floor. She gasped and pointed at the window.

"There's something there that I think you'll need," he said as they quickly ran up to his place. "But we must hurry!"

Jane ran out the door with Josh, all the while eyeing the window and seeing what she thought she saw: a sniper rifle.

"The Commissar's a bastard. Sending a sniper to kill Renton! We have to stop this now!!"

"That's what we're doing love." Josh yelled as they ran into his home. He then ran out of his room at a lightning's pace and said "COME ON!!"

"Wait! Wait! Where are you going?! What is that you have in your hand!?!?"

"JUST HURRY! WE MUST MAKE HASTE!" Jane ran after him, trying to catch up to him, sprinting down the street. "Jane! Where is he?!" he asked as they stopped at a corner out of sight.

Jane looked around the corner and saw the sniper, aiming his rifle out of the third floor. "There," she said quietly. She pointed to the window on the third floor.

"Damn it. Is Renton even supposed to be around here today?"

"I don't know..." She looked down the other side of the street and saw a tall brown-haired figure wearing a trench coat walking down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. "There he is!"

"Great. Here, use this. Jane, I want you to use this saber," he said as he handed it to her. "It belonged to my dad. He used it to fight for the freedom of this land. He handed it down to me right before he died. I want you to use it this one time for the same reason."

"Use it with the pride and love that resides in your heart."

Jane looked it over. It was clean polished straight saber with a silver bell guard. So different from her black saber Josh broke. She looked to Josh and smiled.

"I will. I promise."

"Good. And one more thing."

"What?"

He then gave her a passionate kiss. When he released his lips from hers, he said softly, "I love you. Good luck and take care of yourself."

"I love you too, Josh. I always will."

Jane ran down the street back to the apartment building, Renton rapidly approaching the corner, and the sniper's vision. She ran faster than she ever ran in her life, the red hood and cape fluttering behind her, the trademark of the former assassin now marking her as the one who would carry out the thing that would more than make up for her sins. She broke down the door of the old building and ran up the stairs to the third floor. She soon found the assassin aiming a scoped Mosin-Nagant rifle out the window, Renton soon coming within the sights of the assassin.

"NO!"

Jane leapt at the assassin and knocked him down just as he fired a shot. The assassin looked up and saw a blonde wearing a red hood and cape.

"What the hell!?" yelled Renton as he looked around. As he did, he saw a figure in a red hood and cape fighting with someone else in the building across from him...

"Red Dawn! What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Jane stood up and removed her hood. "I am not RED DAWN. My name is Jane Hart!" She pointed Josh's saber at the assassin, who reached for his own tucked in its scabbard.

"What the hell?! Dewey could have you killed for this treason!" The assassin then drew his black saber out, a sign for sure that he was a Red.

"I'm no longer a dog on the Soviets' leash. Go tell that to your master, when you see him IN HELL!" She lunged at him and the assassin blocked the attack and the duel began.

"RENTON!" yelled Josh as he ran to his stricken old friend. "Are you alright my friend?"

"I think so…," Renton said, looking himself over. He found a small patch of blood on his shoulder.

"You're injured."

"It's not bad." Renton moved his arm with difficulty, reaching for the saber tucked in its scabbard. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"The one who tried to shoot me! Who else?!"

"He's fighting, with Jane..."

Renton looked to his old friend, wide-eyed. "Jane?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you Renton."

"You could try, and who knows? You might succeed."

"Well, while helping her, we fell in love with each other."

Renton's jaw dropped. "I didn't think that was possible..."

"It is Renton if you reach out your hand to someone in need. Believe it or not, she's up there fighting to protect her friend."

Renton looked up and saw Jane and the assassin fight their way on to the observation level of the apartment. "So...there is a way to be good again..."

"Yes there is, but we must hurry."

Meanwhile, Jane continued sparring with the assassin, fighting with all the love and compassion she thought she would never find again.

"Dewey lied to me! I know that now! You and your comrades manipulated me!"

"So you finally figured it out? I guess you aren't as stupid as Dewey made you sound like..."

"What do you mean, you communist scum?" She said as their and eyes sabers locked.

"Figure it out blondie. Only someone like you who is soft hearted can be changed like that."

She frowned and struck at him again and again, forcing him back. "YOU CUR! YOU FIEND! YOU LIAR! YOU CHEAT!!!"

"Cheat? No, we just bend the rules." he chuckled. "Rules that only we believe in."

"There are some rules that apply to everyone. You filthy scums don't get an exception or special treatment!!!" The feeling of betrayal and being cheated flowed through her as they fought to a standstill, casting attacks and counterattacks in a flurry of moves.

"We are special missy. We are the ones who will one day rule supreme on this sad pathetic land that you call America."

"Renton was right about you Bolsheviks. All you want is power. I should have listened to him. You manipulated me to betray Renton! You turned me into a murderer! You ruined my life! I'LL RUIN YOURS!!!"

"You'll never win you little bitch!" he yelled back as he lunged at her.

She parried the attack and forced him back, striking fiercely at his head then his leg. "No! It's you who will lose! You, who cause all the problems in this world! You, who only seek power for yourselves! You, who use others to your advantage for your own selfish gain! IT'S YOU WHO WILL NEVER WIN!"

"Jane, we're here to help!" yelled Josh as he and Renton burst onto the observation deck.

"This one is mine. They betrayed me! I must deal with them myself!" Jane forced the assassin closer and closer to the ledge. The assassin grabbed her wrists as did she and they engaged in a tussle, trying to overpower the other.

"JANE!!"

They were now on the ledge and they broke apart, engaging once more in a fierce swordfight. Another step back would mean certain death.

"You'll never defeat me you little brat. You've got nothing left in that soft heart of yours. Now it is only mush in the Commissar's hands."

"You underestimate the power of freedom-loving people!"

"Freedom loving eh? How pathetic," he replied with an evil grin. "Since when did you start believing that?"

"The heart may be weak, but just as the darkness always resides in all people's hearts, so does the light. It may fade, it may even burn out, but it will never leave the heart. I started believing that and everything else when I met Joshua. The love of my life."

"You mean that tall man over there. Very nice sir. You picked up a nice piece of left over garbage," he said laughing as he stared Josh straight in the eyes.

Jane's saber clashed with the assassin's and they locked their eyes on each other. "If anyone here is the piece of garbage, it is you, and everyone like you!"

"You'll never defeat me!!" he yelled as he lunged at her once again, stumbling with his balance and feet as he attacked.

Jane parried the blow, and cast his saber over the side. Turning on her feet, she threw a kick across the assassin's face and he tumbled off the ledge and to the street below.

"Jane, love!" Josh yelled after it was all over.

Jane dropped her saber and fell to her knees, placing the hood once again over her head.

"God forgive me...God forgive me...God forgive me..."

"It's alright dear. You did the right thing," he said as he took her into his arms.

"I hope...this makes up for what I have done."

"It's a wonderful start Jane," said Renton as he walked up to the two lovers. "More than I could have ever imagined. Josh here must have something special in him if he was able to reach you this easily."

"He has kindness and compassion for his fellow man."

"And a love that only he could give you. Jane, don't hide your face. I want to see the caring and warm friend that I miss so much."

Jane stood up and removed her hood, showing to Renton the smile he hadn't seen in ages. The pain and agony was gone from her face, replaced with a new hope that there was a way to be good again. She cried and embraced Renton tightly.

"Renton...please..."

"What Jane?"

"Renton...can you ever forgive me for everything I've done?"

"All will be forgiven in time Jane. Right now, I'm just glad to have my friend back."

Jane smiled and sobbed harder, slowly falling to the ground, holding her long-lost friend tightly. She had received her redemption. It would take her a long time to stand up again, but she knew now there was a way to be good again.

"Thank you Jane for doing this for me. Honestly, I never expected this out of you."

"I never thought I had it in me. I never thought I would be able to do this ever again, after everything."

"It's because of the love that Josh here has shown you. Do you believe now what we've been fighting for?"

"I do now. I'm so, so sorry, Renton. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to all of you. I was too blind and stupid to accept it!"

"It's alright my love," Josh said gently as he picked up his grandfather's saber. "This was the last time you'll be fighting. You won't have to do this anymore."

"I realize something Renton. The more I think about it, the more I realize how different the two of us are. You're a real crusader, a fighter. I'm not. I could never have the courage to do everything you do. I could never be like you. I guess it's that alone why we weren't meant to be."

"That may be Jane," he said with a warm smile she hadn't seen in a while. "But I was always one of your best friends first. And if it's ok, I'd like to keep it like that for a long time to come. So, what do you say?"

"There's nothing I want more, Renton. That's all I want from you. I don't care anymore if I can't ever have you the way Eureka does. I just want my friend back."

"You've always had me Jane. I've never left your side. If you search deep into your heart, you'll find out I was always there for you, as well as the others."

"I know that now. I was too stupid and selfish to realize that before. I know better now. Forgive me, Renton."

"Like I said before my dear friend, all will be forgiven in time. But for now, you have definitely proved yourself worthy of a true friend."

Jane smiled as she lifted herself up off the ground and looked once more into her long-lost friend's eyes, the look she had not seen in what seemed to be an eternity. She had him back, and that was all that mattered now.

"I'm stronger now. I know that now. I'm stronger thanks to you and you Josh. I know now there is a way to be good again."

"You already are, my love," Josh said as he wrapped his arm around her. "You've proved that with the actions you showed us here today. You have shown us, and yourself, that there is always hope in this world. Hope, that we can all hopefully live in peace."

They all smiled and walked out of the apartment building. The horrible feeling of sin and hatred had disappeared from Jane's heart at last. This was her redemption, her salvation, her atonement for all the sins and wrongs she had ever committed. The love Josh had given her had proven to her, as all good people knew in their hearts, that there was always a way to be good again.

* * *

A/N: It's something I have always believed in. There is always a way to be good again. There is always hope for those who seek redemption and remittance of all penance for their past sins. It's something I'll never stop believing, and I hope it's something all of us can never believing. Here's the preview of the next chapter: 

_The young blonde has atoned for her sins and is redeemed in the eyes of the Resistance, the boy, the members of the boy's hometown, and God on high. Many months later, the boy, the girl and their new family return to the Resistance to resume command of the mission to destroy the beast. The soldier's birthday draws near and his wife along with the rest of the Resistance plan to make it a special occasion._

**Next time: Surprise**


	31. Chapter 31: Surprise

**Chapter Thirty-one: Surprise**

**July 9****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere in northern Marin County, California**

Renton and the others had come back in early July, one month after Renton celebrated his 20th birthday, and the children's wounds completely healed. Joshua and Jane had chosen to stay behind in Bellforest to raise money to support GekkoState, to stop Dewey once and for all. After hearing of what Jane did, all in GekkoState, even Holland, sent her a formal pardon and exoneration of all charges brought against her. She had been redeemed in the eyes of Renton, GekkoState, and the people of Renton's hometown. She had been given salvation and could at last live her life free from the guilt.

There was still no enemy activity to report of, and all went about their different businesses. For one officer in the United States Army, however, today was a special day…

The black haired youth rose from his bunk where his 18-year-old pregnant wife slept next to him, the two of them completely naked. The night before the couple had once again felt the joy of being one, showing to each other the length of their mutual devotion. The youth walked to the window of their quarters made in a farmhouse for officers in the Army of the Republic. He looked out to see the rosy-fingered dawn breaking over the low hills in the northern Marin headlands. All was quiet. Not a soul in sight, not even an animal was awake. It seemed that he was the first one in the whole world to wake up from the long sleep he had had the night before. He sighed happily, thinking over everything about himself since today was a special day for him.

_My name is Dominic Edmund Sorel. I serve in the United States Army, with the rank of First Lieutenant. I command a company of 150 men, most of them from my old San Francisco neighborhood. I have been married to my wife for almost three years, and am going to be a father in five months. I am 20 years old today._

He sighed again and smiled, thinking with a great sense of accomplishment over everything he had ever done in his life. There were some things he regretted in his life, but he was proud he was doing his duty to his republic. He was glad he was married to the love of his life. He was glad he was going to be a father. He was glad and thankful God Almighty had granted him the life he led. He wouldn't trade it for anything. He could never think of living his life any other way.

He looked back to his wife, turning on her back in the small cot. He smiled wider, thinking over everything he and she had ever done in their time knowing each other. They met a long time ago when they were still in elementary school, since they were just children. Over time they had fallen in love with one another and now here they were, so many long years since he met her, happily married to each other for almost three years. He couldn't be happier. He went back to the cot and lay himself down next to her, not wanting to move, even on this most important of days, his birthday.

His wife and GekkoState had secretly been planning a special surprise for her husband's birthday, but were keeping it a secret from him until late in the day. Until that time, she had a present which was to last the whole day.

He closed his eyes again when his wife tapped him on the shoulder and spoke softly in her ear, the words tickling him ever so slightly.

"Wake up, birthday boy."

"Oh, I'm awake," he said opening one eye at his wife. "I was a little before you were."

"I can't ever seem to get up earlier than you. Why is it soldiers always get up early?"

"So we don't get yelled at by the drill instructor." The two laughed.

"The big 2-0. 20 big ones today."

"Yep. A little hard to believe, actually."

"I felt the same way when I turned 18. But I guess it's not so difficult for you. You've been in the adult world for longer than I have."

"You have, too, Anemone."

"Really now?" He nodded, smiling.

"After everything we've ever been through, you're still standing strong. That is proof more than anything that you were an adult long before you turned 18." His wife smiled and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "So what's the plan for today? Anything special?"

"I have something up my sleeve, First Lieutenant," she said playfully. "But I got a present that will last longer than anything."

"And what is that?"

"A whole day off, out on a date with me."

"Now _that's_ the gift that keeps on giving." They laughed again, enjoying this light-hearted talk, knowing they had the whole day to themselves.

"I hope that Major doesn't have anything in mind today."

"He's not Satan," Dominic said laughing. "He wouldn't give an officer an assignment on his birthday. Now for the ordinary enlisted man, that's another story…" The married couple laughed again thoroughly enjoying this. For a moment, there seemed to be no danger, no call to arms, no Bolsheviks, no evil. For a moment, for them at least, everything was peaceful and calm.

"What's the time?" Dominic looked at his wristwatch.

"It's uuuhhh…quarter past seven." Anemone turned away from him.

"Rrrggghh…too early!" was all he could make out.

"It's never too early to start the day. Let's go have some breakfast somewhere." Anemone turned back to him and smiled.

"Okay," she said, pretending to be disappointed. "You're the birthday boy."

Dominic laughed as he rose from the cot and went to the shower room down the hall as Anemone sighed happily thinking over everything they had ever been through in the long time they had known each other.

»»»»»

Breakfast had been uneventful, with no meeting with anyone and no greeting of happy birthday from anyone. For the time being, it was alright with him. Spending a whole day with his wife is the best present he could ask for. He felt very down, however, trying to go over in his head how they would be able to live normal lives after everything was done. How would they live with themselves? What would become of them? What if another war started and he was called to go? They sat in a booth in the same restaurant where they had had breakfast, looking on into the village, talking over past memories and what they hoped to do with their lives when the whole mess is over…

"Dominic, are you ok?" Anemone asked kindly.

"I'm...not...sure..." Dominic responded, seeming depressed. Anemone took his shaky hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

"Why not?"

Dominic sighed tiredly. "I've just been thinking about what will happen to us after this is over..."

"Oh, I see." Dominic blinked and looked at her seriously, as if he somehow knew what she was going to say next. "About our future?"

"Yeah...about what will become of us, if things change..."

"Nothing will become of us love. We'll always be us in the end."

"That's not what I mean, hon. I mean...how will we live with ourselves after everything's done?"

"Day by day I guess. We'll have a family to watch over, so that'll take up most of our time."

"Yeah, I guess...it'll be hard, after all that we've been through..."

"It will be for all of us. Renton, Eureka, us, Holland and Talho, it'll be hard on everyone."

"It'll be different for them. They'll all probably lead private lives when it's all over. I'm a soldier, on the other hand, and if war does come again...well, you know."

"We're all soldiers Dom. We'll all be there when our country calls for us. So believe me, we're all the same."

Dominic smiled as he took another bite out of his food, staring out the window into the village. "When this is over, and after we have our child, I think we should go somewhere..."

"Go somewhere?"

"Yeah. Like a vacation. Go somewhere fun where we can just relax."

"Yeah, that is an idea. It would be nice."

"We could use it..."

"You're right. I've forgotten what something like that was like."

Dominic laughed. "Yeah. We've spent so much of our free time fighting that it hasn't really felt like a vacation. But I want to go somewhere where we don't have to think about that."

"A little road trip maybe? Just hop in a car and tour the country side, the small towns, and whatever else comes along."

"Yeah, or go somewhere far. Go to Paris maybe? Or Rome or Venice?"

"We've been across the world already. I want to see what our country has to offer."

Dominic laughed. She was right. They had been to France already with Renton and the others. He hardly had the time to see his own country. "How about we go to New York?"

"Too big a city. I like the small towns and the country. I like how they give you that 'welcome home' feel."

"I know just the place then. You want to go Yellowstone Park?"

"That would be nice."

"It's really beautiful out there. We can see the bison and elk and look at bears..." Anemone smiled enticingly and narrowed her eyes.

"Ooh, bears."

"Bears. There's a lot of them there."

"Sounds like it. I wouldn't mind staying at a bed and breakfast here and there too. Something small and quaint."

"Sure. We can do that."

"Sounds like we have a plan then."

"Let's kiss on it, then." Anemone laughed.

"Not here. The kiss I want to give you would get us kicked out of here..."

"C'mon, no one's looking."

"Oh, ok." Anemone then gave him a passionate kiss, breaking apart before anyone saw them. "Did that seal the deal for you?"

"It did more than that." Dominic waggled his eyebrows, smiling.

"Alright then. Now let's finish lunch and spend the rest of the day out relaxing with each other."

"You got it."

»»»»»

Dominic and Anemone had roamed around town for about four hours, throwing a penny or two into a fountain, watching little children play, see others play as themselves, the heroes so many were counting on to save the Republic. They now sat in a restaurant having their dinner, and tackling once again the question of what to do with their lives when they came home. Dominic was more depressed now than ever, seeing the world going more to hell in a hand basket and worrying, wondering, what kind of world their child would grow up in. How was it that so many people hated them? Why? Why couldn't they all just live in peace? Why couldn't they just be left alone?

Anemone looked to her husband and found him to be down in the dumps again. He always has his mind on something, she thought.

"Dominic, cheer up already!" Anemone said pretending to be upset. Dominic looked up from his dinner to see his wife smiling at him, flipping her bright red hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized kindly. "I was just thinking about our child." Anemone giggled.

"I think we both do on a daily basis hon."

"Yeah, you're right. If we have a girl, I want to name her Hope."

"That's pretty Dom. I love it."

"I thought so. Hope for some peace after all this. Hope for some quiet where we can't be bothered."

"Yeah, I think we're all hoping for that right now. I just wish I knew when it will finally happen."

"I keep wishing for that day to be tomorrow, so we can all just go home..." he looked out the window back into the village, something on his mind again. "I really worry about what kind of world our child is going to grow up in. Things were bad enough when we had to fight the Nazis, but now we have to fight the Soviets. I feel like there's always another evil to replace one that falls. Always someone else to interfere with our lives and try to destroy our home. It's so discouraging..."

"Yeah, I suppose so..."

"Anemone, when this is over, I'm going to resign my commission as a First Lieutenant." Anemone's eyes widened in shock at what he had just said. Give up?! Just like that?!

"NO WAY! Listen Dominic, we'll always be a part of the military. Hopefully it'll be on call only when this whole thing is over. But you can't give up that position. You've worked too hard for it."

"What if another war starts and I have to go? I've fought my way through life ever since Mom left me for that man in L.A. and honestly, honey...I'm really getting tired of it. I just want to have my life with you after this is over. I don't know if I can take the fighting anymore..."

"Renton probably said the same thing at one point or another, but I know for a fact Eureka would never let him give up or leave. I won't let you do it either." Dominic smiled.

"You really believe in me that much, don't you?"

"Of course dear. If I didn't, I wouldn't be your wife." Dominic smiled and gave her a light kiss on the cheek, perked up by her kind words.

"There was a time when I thought being a soldier in the U.S. Army was the best job a guy could have. My father served, my grandfather served, my great grandfather served, and I thought I could keep up the tradition. I thought it would be the best job ever: spreading democracy, keeping the peace, defending the Republic, all that. I never really knew what war could do before we all went to Normandy together..." He placed his face in his hands, feeling so depressed and hopeless. "I just want it all to stop. I just want to have some peace and quiet with my wife and people just keep coming in and bothering us, as if we're some kind of magnet."

"We'll have that and more Dominic. But in order to do that, we have to keep fighting just a little bit longer. I want our child to have someone that he or she can look up to and say 'That was my dad, the greatest man in the world.' And that's the man I'm married to right now." Dominic smiled and his spirits picked themselves up in an instant.

"If our kid will say that when this is over...then it's all worth it."

"Well of course. I want our child to see all the medals, awards, and accomplishments that their father earned. I want our child to try to achieve those same goals, military or not."

"I want that too." Dominic, with tears in his eyes, took her hand and looked her deep into her strange lavender eyes with his firm grey. "If it really means that much to you, I'll stay. For you and our kid, if for nothing else."

"That's what I want with all my heart sweetie. I never want you to give up. Keep striving for the goals we all want in life. Keep fighting for our future."

"I will. That's a promise I'll never break, Anemone."

"Good. I'm proud of you hon, more than you'll ever know."

"Thanks, sweetie. I really needed that." He gave her another gentle kiss and the two went back to their dinner, knowing they were doing what was right, and that was all that mattered to them.

»»»»»

The couple had finished their dinner and was roaming around town with nothing to do. If they headed home too soon, the surprise party would be ruined. Anemone soon saw their friend Renton heading towards them. Before today Anemone and Renton had made a plan for the party and had a good idea of enraging Dominic enough to get him riled up for the party.

"Dominic, Anemone, I've been looking for you two," Renton said with a grave air of concern, like something bad had happened.

"What's wrong, boss?" Dominic said concerned.

"We've got news that the reds are on the move again to the north. We don't know what they're up to or what their intentions are, but right now we can't take any risks. Here are your orders. Head to headquarters right away and gather up Dog Company. I'll meet all of you there at twenty hundred hours."

"What?!?"

"Are you insane!?" Anemone screamed. "It's Dominic's birthday! He wasn't supposed to work today!"

"It can't be helped right now," Renton said calmly. This is more important, so get moving. I'll see you at headquarters."

"Can't you send someone else?"

"Holland is already there getting his brigade together Dominic. I suggest you do the same. Anemone, you and Eureka will get all the nurses together and get prepared for injuries or casualties if they do occur."

"Holland's got a whole brigade! He can take care of whatever's going on out there!"

"Dominic, no arguments. Now move!" As Renton walked away, Dominic slapped his garrison cover on his knee in frustration.

"GODDAMMIT!"

Anemone just giggled lightly, trying not to get caught. She knew what was going on, but had to give her husband a hard time on this one. She knew that once he got to headquarters though, his attitude would change a full 180 degrees.

"What the fuck kind of bullshit is this?!! The intel said the Reds wouldn't be able to make a fucking move for another two weeks! Those motherfucking sonuvabitch clueless mindless shitheads!!!!!

"Calm down dear, it can't be helped. It was probably a surprise move that we didn't know about. Our intelligence agents can't catch everything you know."

"Even so!!!"

"DOMINIC! We have no choice! I'm sorry it's on your birthday, but we have a country we have to protect, so let's get going before we get court-martialed."

"Goddammit. God help the Red who crosses paths with me today!!!!"

"I'm right with you hon, now let's go kick some Soviet ass."

"All right." They ran to the headquarters to confront this supposed new Red attack that was coming.

At headquarters, Eureka ordered all people to hide in the living area to surprise Dominic when he came home to the "meeting" on the "approaching Red attack"

"Hurry up girls!" Eureka ordered. "He'll be here any minute now!"

Dominic knocked on the door of the headquarters, after spending a whole half hour organizing his company.

"Where is everybody?" Anemone asked no one in particular. "They're supposed to be here."

Dominic turned the knob and found it was unlocked. "I guess they must be waiting for us upstairs."

"Well let's get going then."

They walked calmly up the stairs or as calmly as one could when they were faced with an enemy attack.

"It's too quiet Dom," Anemone said shaking with fear. "Almost scary..."

"I hear you. Chief? Holland? Eureka? Anyone here?"

"Nobody is answering Dominic..."

Dominic turned to another door that led into the living area where the party had been set up. She holds on to his arm tight, almost shivering with anticipation.

"Here we go." He opened the door and was surprised out of his skin at what came next.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOMINIC!!" everyone yelled when the lights came on, showering him in a sea of confetti.

"WHAT THE HELL?!?! THE WHOLE THING WAS A SETUP!!!"

"Sure was my love." Anemone giggled as she looked at his expression. Dominic's surprised look soon dissipated and was replaced with a smile.

"You guys..."

"I love you Dominic."

"I love you too, hon." He gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek as they walked in to enjoy the party that was the climax for the whole day.

* * *

A/N: Happy Birthday, Dominic! I had to put that in there since Dominic is one of my favorite characters. I think everyone needed a break from all the action-packed chapters. By the way to all my faithful, I am sorry I haven't updated in two weeks. School has been such a killer lately…ugh. Anyway, here's a preview of one exciting chapter:

_A few weeks after the soldier's 20__th__ birthday is celebrated, the girl gives birth to a child, giving one more reason for the boy and the girl and the Resistance to rejoice. However the celebration does not last long; the beast calls out the boy personally and challenges him to a final confrontation as the two armies clash once more at a small town near the village. Could this be the boy's chance to destroy the beast once and for all?_

**Next Time: Clash of Rivals**


	32. Chapter 32: Clash of Rivals

**Chapter Thirty-two: Clash of Rivals**

**August 9****th****, 1946**

**Town of Salisa Olne, California**

At the end of July, Dewey took his force and moved east, concentrating his defenses around the town of Salisa Olne. All of his assassination attempts on Renton had failed. Every person he sent to eliminate him had been killed. Still completely obsessed with finding and killing him, he decided on an audacious plan. He would patch a call through to the GekkoState headquarters outside the town and call him out himself, a duel to put an end to their old rivalry once and for all. Never had Dewey taken such a gamble. If he was to win, he had to get rid of the one man that stood in his way: Renton.

He was slowly losing his mind, and the mission, the one thing he had been sent here for, the mission Comrade Stalin himself gave him, was fading away in its importance to him. The new Red Dawn, the new world order of communism, all that was losing its merit to him. Now of course he still believed in the ideology, but the mission's primary objective was being overtaken by a new objective: Renton's death. This was not a quest for power. This was a lust for revenge. Renton, the boy he had hated since the day they met, the boy who humiliated him time and again in almost every confrontation he ever had with him, was the thing that occupied his mind. Renton must die, he thought. He must, if any of this is to succeed.

This must not fail.

»»»»»

**One day earlier**

Renton and Eureka's baby had still not arrived, but the time was extremely close. They were in the aid station with the chief medical superintendent Dr. Mischa Sarkovsky, the medical student from Poland. Eureka had been in labor for 20 hours according to Mischa, but she was holding up well. Everyone one else was as well. Moondoggie and Gidget were still watching the children while Anemone and Talho sat and waited anxiously for the baby to arrive. Holland and Dominic waited anxiously outside, as Holland began pacing nervously about, wondering what his first niece or nephew would look like.

"Almost there darling," said Renton. "Just a little bit longer."

"I'm so tired though," she replied, gasping. "I don't know if I can go any further."

"I know, we all are. But just hang in there ok?"

"You're doing extremely well Eureka. Just be strong ok?" said Talho.

"I will, sister."

"Good girl. Doctor, how is it looking?"

"We're doing well," she replied in her thick Polish accent. "She's at nine centimeters now. One more and we'll be ready to push."

"You hear that? You're almost there," said Anemone happily.

"I know. Don't worry, I'm ready."

"That's good, Eureka. You're doing well. Keep it up."

"Ok, another contraction," said Talho. "Breathe sister." And once again like Eureka had done many times before, she completed them effortlessly. "And, relax. Good job."

"Alright, let's do one more check to see if we're ready to push, ok Eureka?"

"Ok," Eureka replied.

A few moments later, Mischa said, "Ok, we're at ten. We can begin pushing on the next contraction, ok?"

"Ok, you ready dear?" asked Renton.

"Yes I am. I can't believe it's finally time. The thing we've been looking forward to is finally here!"

"Yes it is," said Anemone. "Me and Renton will be right here by your side."

"And so will I, sister," said Talho. "Mischa has it from there. Ok, here comes another contraction. Now we'll be pushing in ten second intervals. Ready, and PUSH!!"

"Come on dear, you can do it!" said Renton.

"Five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten. And relax. Excellent work dear."

"Good job," Anemone replied.

"Excellent hon," said Renton.

"Thanks dear. Water please."

"Here you go," he replied as she took a drink out of the straw.

"Thank you."

"Sure dear."

"Ok, here comes another contraction, ok Eureka, get ready and push! One, two, three, four, five six, seven, eight, nine, and ten, and relax."

"Good job Eureka," said Talho.

"Thank you sister," Eureka replied. "More water please."

"Here you go Eureka," said Anemone.

"Thank you." she replied as she took another drink.

"You're doing well Eureka. Keep it up."

"Thank you Anemone."

"Here comes another one," said Talho. "Ok Eureka, get ready, and push! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten. And relax. Good job, the head is starting to crest!"

"Two to three more pushes and we'll have a baby!" Mischa said excitedly.

"I'm…I'm…so tired," said Eureka, panting.

"You're doing wonderful dear," said Renton. "By the way, I love you."

"I love you too Renton," Eureka replied with tired smile.

"Here comes another one." said Mischa. "Get ready, and PUSH!"

"Come on Eureka!" said Anemone.

"Almost there!" yelled Talho.

"A little bit more!" said Renton.

"Seven, eight, nine and ten, and relax. Excellent work, Mrs. Thurston, the baby's head is out!" said Mischa happily.

"One more push and we should have a baby!" said Talho.

"You hear that dear? One more and our child will be here," said Renton excitedly.

"I'm so tired, I'm not sure I can do it," Eureka replied.

"Yes you can, Eureka. Don't give up," said Anemone.

"You can make it dear, come on now," Talho replied.

"Come on dear, one more for us, ok?" Renton said as he looked her deep in the eyes. "Remember: don't ever give up, no matter how hard it may be."

"Ok Renton, one more for us," she replied as they kissed each other.

"Ok Mrs. Thurston, last one," said Mischa. "Are you ready?" Eureka nodded tiredly. She was ready before this even started. She was ready the day she and Renton agreed upon this. "Ok. Now, get ready, and PUSH!!"

"Almost there dear," said Renton calmly, stroking her hand.

"Come on Eureka!" yelled Anemone.

"A little bit more!" said Talho.

"IT'S OUT!" yelled Mischa happily.

"What is it?" asked Renton.

"One second!" A few seconds later as Mischa cleaned it and cleared out its nostrils, the cries of a baby filled the room. "It's a boy! My congratulations to the both of you!"

"It's a boy dear!" said Renton happily. Eureka smiled tiredly as she lay there on the cot, breathing heavily.

"I know. Oh Renton, I love you so much."

"I love you too darling."

"Would Father care to cut the cord?" asked Mischa.

"Of course," he replied smiling wide.

"Ok, cut here above the clip, and you're done." Renton quickly cut the umbilical cord, getting a cry out from the baby. "Ok, wrap him up in this blanket, and we're all set. Here you are you two, your new son." Renton gently laid the newborn baby in his wife's arms, the two of them smiling wide.

"He's got your eyes, dear."

"And he's got your smile, darling."

"He's so cute," Anemone said smiling. "I'm going to tell the boys outside."

"Ok Anemone," Eureka replied as she left.

"Hey everyone," said Anemone to the two men, nervous sweat soaking their collars.

"Is everything ok? I thought I heard a baby crying in there," said Dominic. Anemone smiled.

"You did."

"It's here?! What is it?" asked Holland coming to her excited.

"Everyone, IT'S A BOY!!" Holland whooped and hollered in Russian as he danced out in the streets with the first person he saw who happened to be Dominic.

"YA BUDU DYADYUSHKOJ! YA BUDU DYADYUSHKOJ!!!!" (A/N: Russian for: I'm an uncle.) When he and Anemone walked in, Eureka had their new baby in her arms while Renton sat beside her on their bed. Talho and Mischa stood on the right side of the bed. "Hello sister, how are you doing?"

"We're wonderful brother. Want to see him?"

"Sure," he replied gently as he sat next to them. "He has your eyes, sister."

"That's what his father said." Holland laughed.

"Such a precious little thing. Have you picked out a name yet?"

"Actually…" Renton began, slightly melancholy.

"I know what you want to name him darling," Eureka said kindly. "It's ok." Renton smiled as he took his newborn son in his arms.

"Son, I'm going to name you Timmy Garnett Thurston. For a little friend I used to know, who I miss every day." His pupils dilated, filled with tears of joy. "I love you, Timmy. I always will." He kissed his newborn son and the baby giggled in reply. All smiled at the sight of this, the creation of a new life from the power of devotion between two people.

»»»»»

**Outside Salisa Olne**

GekkoState had moved out of the village around the end of July and went after Dewey in pursuit, following him to Salisa Olne. They made headquarters in a small farmhouse on the outskirts of town, where the army, a force of 6,000, stood waiting for the orders to go in and attack. Renton had already made the plan to attack in early August, but his wonderful son distracted him from following it up.

Renton hardly ever spent a day without his newborn son, amusing him in every way imaginable. The stern strict commander played the role of father: joyful, playful and attentive. He could barely keep little Timmy out of his arms, walking him about with his wife at his side and sometimes holding him up to a mirror and saying kindly, "Now, Mr. Thurston! Look at yourself!"

It was a wonderful sight to behold to everyone who knew the young couple. Holland and Talho were nearly brought to tears at the sight of their nephew, proving to everyone and to them how much they loved each other and everyone they knew. Dominic and Anemone found their soft spot struck too at the sight of their child, seeing their friends becoming the great parents they expected them to always be. It was a truly beautiful and marvelous sight, to see the child the two had been waiting for a long time finally arrive into this world, showing to everyone how love could create such great things.

Nothing lasts forever, however…

Renton walked about decked in his usual trench coat, white dress shirt and grey knickerbockers despite some people's wishes that he get a new look for himself. Timmy was in bed sound asleep, all sat in the general living area of the abandoned farmhouse, smiling at the sight of the man who seemed to set the example for everyone to follow.

"Hello, my friend," Holland said smiling.

"Hello, Holland," Renton replied returning his smile.

"How is the little one today?"

"Sound asleep in his crib. You should see him. He's so cute when he's asleep. So natural." Holland laughed in delight at the thought.

"I can imagine. You must really be proud, Renton."

"I am. Every moment is a happy moment for me since Timmy came into the world. I'm so glad. I wouldn't trade him or any of you for anything."

"Nor would I, my old friend."

Renton smiled and the two brother-in-laws embraced each other, laughing. This was a happy moment. Timmy had brought them together, the best thing that could have ever happened to them. Just then however, their moment of joy was interrupted by Moondoggie, manning one of the radios.

"Hey, Renton," Moondoggie called to his old friend. "I hate to interrupt but I got a message coming through."

"What's the frequency?" Renton asked. Moondoggie checked.

"It's not the army's and it's not ours. Who could it be?"

"Read out the frequency." Moondoggie adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and read the numbers.

"1,485 MHz." Everyone gasped.

"That's the UBF. Put it through. This might give us some intel about their position." Moondoggie turned up the volume, and instead of hearing usual Russian chatter, they heard the booming menacing voice of their enemy. The enemy of the Republic. The enemy of Renton.

Dewey.

"Good afternoon. This is a message to all personnel serving in the counter-resistance group known as GekkoState. This is Comrade Colonel Dewey Novakov, the commander-in-chief of the Red Army expeditionary unit known as the United Bolshevik Force. As you are no doubt aware, we have been fighting each other for some time now. I suppose you are expecting one of my grand erudite speeches about me, communism, the new Red Dawn, et cetera, et cetera. But I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint you. There is no longer a grand scheme behind this now. This is now about _revenge_. If any one of you knows your commander Renton Thurston as well as I do, he will probably tell you that he and I have been enemies for quite some time, ever since the day we first met. Consider this my personal greeting card to you, Renton. You surely know that all the attempts to kill you have failed, but I am not quite ready to give up the fight just yet. I am sending this message to tell you I think it is about time we settle our old rivalry once and for all. You probably know that now our forces are now waiting for one of us to attack, and know this: when this battle begins, you will see me yourself. Bring no one with you. We will settle this alone. Meet me or else. Prepare yourself Thurston, for your final fight."

The line went silent again and all turned their eyes to Renton, who showed no shock but only a certain readiness such that no one had ever seen. In Renton's mind, the old tactician took over, seeing everything now as a military matter. This was it. This was their chance. They could kill Dewey and end this once and for all.

"That settles it," Renton said firmly. Eureka looked at him in concern, afraid of what he might be getting himself into.

"Renton…"

"This is our chance. We can finally put a stop to him." Holland stood up in objection, in one of the few times he had ever argued with his old friend.

"No, he's my brother," Holland protested. "Let me go. I should be the one to stop him."

"As much as I would like to," Renton said with a heavy heart, "he called _me_ out."

"It doesn't matter brother. You have a family to look out for. I don't have that right now. You have more to stay back for than I do. Let me take care of him."

"Holland, I'm doing this _for_ my family."

"Renton," Eureka said worriedly, "I don't know if I can let you do this. We have four children who need you. I don't want you going out and getting yourself killed."

"I won't get killed, Eureka."

"Love, I'm afraid that's something you can't promise now. Dewey is a skilled fighter, even more than you possibly."

"So am I, if you remember."

"I do, but still..." Renton scowled and turned to everyone in the room.

"Eureka, everyone, listen to me! This is our one chance! If we catch him, we can end this whole thing right now and be able to go home! Dewey didn't call out to me personally for any good reason. I'm the one he wants. I'm the one who has to face him."

"He's doing it because he's always wanted to Renton," Holland said again. "He's always had it in for you."

"That's why I have to go. To prove to him that he can't beat me, or anyone." Dominic stepped forward and offered his reservations now.

"We can prove that by winning this conflict Renton. Forcing a duel between you two won't do a thing. I'd rather send him running with his tail between his legs." Renton turned to his friend from the army and looked right through him with his piercing green eyes, seeing right into his soul.

"The conflict's not stopping until he's out of the picture, Lieutenant. If we get rid of him, the entire UBF will collapse."

"That may be Renton, but I'm sticking to my guns on this one."

"You stick to your guns on the frontlines, then, since that's what you're good at. I'm going to end this once and for all." He picked up his saber and started to go. "All commanders prepare your troops to attack."

"Yes sir Commander..."

Dominic then glared back at Renton as he left, letting him know he completely disagreed with the situation. Holland left too, obviously disgusted with Renton's decision himself. Eureka however ran after him to the front entrance where a black car was waiting for him. If he was going to go, then she would go with him.

"You're not leaving without me," Eureka said to him as he approached the car.

"I don't want you involved in this, Eureka."

"But he's my brother! I should be with you until the end."

"That's what he wants, Eureka. He'll kill you too."

"Renton..." He turned to her and took her in his arms, hugging her tightly.

"Eureka, please. Do this for me. I must be alone if this is to work."

"But...I'm afraid for you."

"Don't be, my darling. Everything will be set right."

"I'm just afraid...that I won't see you again."

"What does your heart tell you?"

"That...I will. Oh please Renton!! Come back home safe to your family!!" She buried her face in his sternum, crying tears of fear, tears of dread, tears of uncertainty that she would ever see him again. Renton squeezed her close to him, rocking her from side to side, comforting her the way one would a child.

"Eureka...shh...if anything happens to me, if I should fall, I'll pick myself up again and find the strength to come back to you. That's a promise I'll always keep, darling. You believe that, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You've always had a way of making me believe that the impossible is possible."

"Anything's possible, darling. You just got to believe."

"I know." She kissed him gently on the lips, the tears subsiding and the faith in him never wavering for a second. "Just make sure you come home. If you don't, I'll find you and kill you myself."

"I'll come back darling. You know, you make me very happy."

"I'm glad. Be safe, okay?"

"I will." He stroked her hair and saw the innocent look in her wondrous grey eyes, knowing in her heart that he will always keep his promise. "I will call you if I require assistance. You can tell that to everyone."

"I will love."

"I'll come back. Things will be different. I swear it." He gave her one last kiss before getting into the car. He waved her goodbye as the car sped away and as the troops got into their positions for the planned attack.

»»»»»

Salisa Olne was a very small town where ironically Renton and Dominic first met in 5th grade, while he was still living on the farm. It was now occupied by 3,500 troops of the Red Army, all under the personal command of Dewey himself. He made his headquarters in a large townhouse on the other edge of town. The town of Salisa Olne was surrounded by all sides by GekkoState Alliance troops. And Renton calmly walked toward the building where Dewey was surely waiting, ready to end this. Holland watched from his CP perched on a high hill through his binoculars as Renton approached the house.

"He'll get beaten for sure," he said to no one in particular.

"You sure about that?" Talho asked in a resentful tone.

"He lost to him twice, Talho. He can't win."

"Third time's the charm, they say."

"You believe in luck. I'll believe in reality."

"I don't believe in luck, dear. I believe in Renton. You have to let it go, Holland; Dewey called Renton out, not you."

"He's only doing this because he has it in for him, Talho. This is all just a big trap to kill Renton!" Talho scowled at him.

"Renton's survived every attempt on his life up to now. Why shouldn't he survive this one?"

"Because Dewey is different."

"He's like the rest of them, lubov: pathetic." She took a radio and went down the hill in the direction of the townhouse.

"Where are you going?" Holland asked, arms crossed.

"To prove you wrong."

She ran down the hill to the townhouse where Renton, decked in his trench coat and formal dress, stood at the entrance. He kicked the door in and went inside as Talho approached the window, looking in. She saw Renton walk, almost in a menacing way, a few steps in. The window was open and she heard him yell,

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE CREEP!?!?!?!" There was no response. Talho only snickered at Renton's outburst. "DEWEY NOVAKOV! IT'S ME YOU WANT! COME OUT AND FIGHT ME LIKE YOU WANTED TO!!! SHOW YOURSELF!!!"

Talho then saw a clean-shaven grey haired man, about 25, approach Renton, decked in a Red Army uniform with a gold saber at his side.

"Renton? Is that really you?" The man said in a thick Slavic accent. Renton only scowled at the sight of the man he hated. "Why, yes, it is! Young Renton Thurston, supposed hero of the Republic! How long has it been?"

"Eight years," he responded through clenched teeth. "And I thought I would never see you again."

"It looks like you're wrong again, boy. But my, how you have grown since then. I hear you have a wife now, Renton. And four little children to care for. I wonder...who was the naïve fool of a girl who fell for you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you..."

"Try me. You might get away with it." Renton cracked a somewhat evil grin.

"Your sister!!!!" Dewey laughed hard and threw his grey hair back.

"Why am I not surprised, Renton? Sister was always so foolhardy and naive. I feel so sorry that she fell for a pathetic specimen of a man like you..."

"I THINK EUREKA WOULD HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THAT CONSIDERING ME AND SHE JUST MADE YOU A NEW UNCLE DEWEY!!!" Dewey's ice blue eyes widened at that, much to the snickering laughter of Talho, who thankfully no one could hear.

"What do you mean by that?" Renton's grin widened bearing his white teeth.

"We had a son, Dewey. You're an uncle now. You're my brother-in-law." Dewey stepped back, slightly shocked at this revelation. "You know, Dewey, now that you're my brother in law, I don't know whether I should talk to you...OR KILL YOU!!!!!" Dewey laughed pompously.

"Either way you do it is fine with me. You were doomed from the start anyway."

"Guess again, Dewey." Renton quickly pulled out a Colt 45 pistol and aimed it at Dewey's head, causing him to laugh once more.

"Such toys you have, boy. Does your father know you're playing with them?" Renton seethed in anger at the mention of his dead father, as if this contemptible man was somehow the equal of his wonderful caring loving father.

"Of course...He knows how I fight for the freedom of our land and for the ones I love. If he saw how I fought my battles, he'd be more proud of me than your father would of you..." Dewey raised an eyebrow at this.

"You think so? Then put that gun away, boy, and fight me like the man father is soooo proud of..."

"I shouldn't even give you the pleasure. You're not even worth the time you pathetic human. You should be in the gulags with all the other people you've tortured." Dewey unsheathed his saber and pointed it at Renton.

"Watch your mouth, boy! I don't have to take that from a stray capitalist dog like you!"

"You're going to have to Dewey. Remember, we are family..."

"The mere fact that YOU are part of my family now is MORE REASON FOR ME TO KILL YOU!!!!"

He charged at him and struck at his head but Renton quickly unsheathed his saber and blocked the move, holding back the enormous weight of the 25-year-old. Renton forced him back and their sabers clashed with a ring that echoed through the whole townhouse. Talho turned on the radio and called to Holland on the hill, to prove him wrong.

"General Novakov speaking."

"Guess who," she said flatly.

"What's the news from there Talho?" Holland asked with anger in his voice. "Is Renton getting his ass kicked by Dewey?"

"You'd be surprised, dear. That brother-in-law of yours is quite the fighter."

"What?!"

"That's right, love. He's still alive and fighting and putting up quite a tough fight at that."

"I don't believe you. Are you at the window of the townhouse?"

"Yes."

"Let me hear!" Talho placed the radio receiver on the windowsill and let Holland listen in on the duel between his brother and brother-in-law.

"I'm surprised you actually came by yourself, Renton," Dewey said as he fended off another blow. "I was certain you would have Holland or Talho with you. But it seems you are more foolish than I thought." Renton struck at his leg and then his head, parried both times, before locking their sabers and staring each other.

"I came by myself so the others wouldn't have to. I came to make a point: you're not worth their time and energy. They're better than you, Colonel. Every last one of them. Eureka, Holland, Talho, Dominic, Anemone, every one of them! They're better than you, and they're better than me! They always have been, and they always will be. But as long as I have them with me, and the strength they give me from their friendship and love, I and everyone else will always come out on top, Colonel. Always."

Holland was extremely moved as was all others who heard the speech, so moved it brought him and Talho to tears. He went out not to settle scores, but so that his friends and loved ones wouldn't have to go. He did it to save them.

Renton and Dewey fought back into the living area as Talho watched on in anxiety, looking on at this scene of the boy and the beast trying to settle their old rivalry once and for all. The two were really skilled fighters, and both found it hard to strike at the other. Renton forced Dewey down the stairs into an empty living room, the sun shining through the windows as the smoke of battle swirled outside the townhouse, the battle begun. As a battle raged between two nations, a conflict raged between two men. Renton became increasingly aggressive in his attacks, to the point where it seemed if he was deranged. Renton threw another attack at his sternum that was quickly blocked by Dewey as Dewey tried to score a hit on his leg, only to be parried by the old fox.

"YOU GOT ANY FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU'RE DOING!?!?!"

"I come with the mission of spreading the world revolution, and ridding the world of their capitalist oppressors."

"You know, Dewey, there's one thing you've forgotten: some people love their governments just as you do yours!!!!"

Dewey kicked him hard in the chest and sent him flying back to the stairs, throwing him on the ground. He brought his saber down on him hoping to end his life with a single slash of his saber. He was denied the pleasure when Renton parried his predictable move and brought his saber over his head. He slowly got up, yelling at him, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Keep fighting Dewey. It will do you no good. But if you really want a settling of our rivalry, I WILL BE HAPPY TO OBLIGE YOU!!!!"

Renton threw a powerful kick of his own into Dewey's stomach and sent him flying back into the living room. Renton charged at him and attacked at him in a flurry of attacks counterattacks parries and thrusts, all blocked by each other. Renton turned on his feet and kicked Dewey in the face, sending him back a few more feet. Renton attacked him again when Dewey grabbed him by the shirt collar and literally lifted him up off the ground. Renton kicked him in the stomach and threw him back as he landed firmly on his feet.

"You'll never take me alive!!!" Renton yelled. Dewey circled him and charged at him again, trying to score a hit somewhere.

"That's the idea. You Americans are all the same: PATHETIC!!!"

"I have to disagree with you there, Colonel. If anyone is pathetic here, it's you!"

"Give me a piece of evidence, since that's what you're going to do anyway." Renton scowled and his eyes pierced into what soul there was in Dewey as they circled each other.

"Whining over something in the past…trying to obtain something that you know is unachievable...taking out your pain and anger on others...is that the way children are supposed to behave, DEWEEEEEEYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!"

Renton, with wide accusing almost maniacal eyes, charged Dewey and brought his saber down in a vertical slash that Dewey narrowly avoided. He turned and their sabers clashed again with a ring as they struggled to overpower the other.

"If that's your best," Renton said staring at him, "give up now!!" Dewey laughed as his eyes widened, sinisterly staring at him.

"I'm not prepared to be humiliated again by a little boy." Renton scowled at this contemptible man and screeched at the top of his lungs.

"You should know your confines, old man!"

Renton threw him back and took the opportunity to strike at his leg, drawing blood. Dewey fought back and attacked fiercely, almost backing Renton up to the wall before slashing at his arm, leaving a large cut. Thankfully it wasn't his fighting arm so he was in good shape. The old fox wasn't finished yet. He charged the Colonel and attacked him furiously, forcing him back almost to a wall on the other side of the room.

"END OF THE LINE, COLONEL!!!"

He brought his saber down on him but Dewey blocked it and kicked Renton in the stomach, bringing themselves back to the center of the room. Their sabers were locked as they taunted each other, each trying to rattle the other's nerves.

"What's the matter Dewey? Can't stand having someone better than you in the family?"

"It wouldn't matter to me, as long YOU weren't in the family, YOU SPINELESS LAPDOG!!!!" Their sabers clashed again as Renton turned a smug smile.

"Spineless eh? Nobody that I know would say that considering how bad I've beaten you here and in your motherland. A lot of people would say that I'm the biggest hero alive, you has-been!"

"They bought into a lie, like you did. That empty idea called democracy. You could have joined me, Renton, and become one of the most powerful men in the world! But you were a fool! All you ever saw was a giant army rolling forth to crush your little Republic. You were blind, Thurston. Blind and stupid!!!"

"Oh really? And the 'communism' that you believe in is better? I think not, you silly little man. All your government believes in is the mass murder and torture of its citizens in order to maintain its balance. That's not how _our_ country works! We're a democracy!"

"Whoever told you about how communism works is a fool! We are the liberators, freeing the workers from their bourgeois oppressors like you! Communism will always triumph! Marx foresaw it! Lenin foresaw it! Stalin foresees it now! You can't defeat me, a soldier from the most powerful nation on earth! YOU CAN'T!!!!"

"Oh we can, AND WE WILL!! Listen to yourself Dewey. You're more pathetic than that Stalin character ever will be. Stalin is a nobody, a loser, someone on the end of his dying rope. His dreams will never come true in this great land. AND NEITHER WILL YOURS!!"

They broke apart and Dewey spoke again, trying to rattle Renton's nerves and get inside his head.

"And you think your democracy will prevail? Think about it, Thurston. If we lose, you become the most powerful nation on earth and you will go around imposing your 'democracy' on everyone else, like the imperialist stooges you are!!!"

"That'll never happen, Dewey. If you ever looked at this great land, you would've seen that we are a peace loving land. We don't go pushing our power around. We'd rather use it to help others in need." Dewey laughed arrogantly.

"Such a sweet story. I bet you say that to yourself every night so you can sleep easy."

"It's not a story you pathetic loser. It's reality, and it's been right in your face the whole time. You've just been too blind to see it yourself."

"The thing I see is a nosy little upstart of a boy always looking to pick a fight. You have interfered in Soviet affairs FOR THE LAST TIME!"

Dewey slashed at Renton's shoulder and leg, drawing more blood, crippling the old fox, but not leaving him unable to fight. Renton fought on even though he was slowly becoming exhausted.

Outside the townhouse in the city streets, the Reds were losing ground more rapidly as the GekkoState Alliance and regular Army troops swarmed through the streets. Among them was a black-haired lieutenant with a fiery tempered red haired woman. He looked over a couple streets down to see a tall whitewash townhouse near the edge of town. He looked closer to see two figures dueling in the center room. His eyes widened in shock.

"CHIEF!"

The lieutenant, followed by his company and the woman, ran down the street and towards the townhouse where Renton and Dewey were still fighting out their rivalry, the situation fast becoming a stalemate.

Renton, his free arm bleeding from Dewey's cut and his left shoulder cut, was losing his strength, and switching to counterattacks and defense. Dewey was backing him towards a side door when the door was kicked in and in came Dominic and Anemone aiming their guns at the Colonel, seeing their friend severely wounded. His shirt sleeve of one arm had turned red with blood and there was a cut through his left shoulder and his left leg, close to his old wound from Paris. Dominic stepped forward aiming his BAR at the Colonel's head.

"Drop the saber, or I'll blow your fucking head off." Dewey laughed as he slowly started to back away before turning and running like the coward he was. Renton, down on one knee, weak from the duel, ordered the men to fire on the retreating officer.

"SHOOT HIM DOWN! SHOOT HIM DOWN!!!"

Dewey ran behind a pile of supply crates and canisters, faced with the fire of men from Dog Company, armed with M1 Garands, BARs, and Thompson submachine guns. He was pinned down behind the crates and it looked like it was all over for him when he threw a grenade out at them.

"INCOMING! SCATTER!!!"

The firing troops scattered as the grenade detonated when it hit the ground. Dewey took the opportunity and ran towards the other door where a sedan was waiting for him. The soldiers kept firing on him as he ran away but couldn't hit him. Renton, now consumed with his own obsession of killing the Colonel yelled out,

"FUCK THIS SHIT!!! THIS ENDS NOW!!!!"

He grabbed a Thompson submachine gun from one of Dominic's soldiers and ran after the retreating Colonel. Dominic and Anemone ran after him to try and stop him, but Renton refused to listen to his old friends, seeing this as the opportunity of ending this now.

"Renton! Renton Thurston, stop!" Renton, a rage and hatred for Dewey taking over his common sense at that moment, refused to listen and continued running, yelling back to them,

"NO! NO! WE MUST PURSUE!! DON'T YOU SEE, DOM?! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND, ANEMONE!?! WE CAN END THIS RIGHT NOW! WE CAN ALL GO HOME!!!!"

"RENTON, STOP! NO!"

Renton ran out in front of Dewey and fired his Thompson, the bullets trailing the Colonel who was smiling maliciously at him as he ran.

"Care for one last double-cross, Colonel?!"

"You cannot beat me, Thurston! Try all you want!!"

Renton got in front of him and fired wildly, the inner darkness that resided in all people filling his eyes with hatred and contempt for this murderer.

"YOU WON'T ESCAPE THIS TIME!!!"

"Oh really?" Dewey pulled out his saber again as did Renton and the two old rivals clashed their sabers once more, sending sparks into the air. "You think you can stop me, Thurston? Try."

"Maybe I won't stop you, but my friends and loved ones will! They're all better than you, Dewey! A thousand times over! We can stop you easily, Dewey, and WE WILL!!! You'll remember that when you go to Hell where you belong!!!"

"We shall see who goes where, boy!" Renton cracked another menacing smile as he threw the Colonel back, everyone watching him duel with this tyrant.

"Goodnight…DEWEEEEEEEYYYYYYY!!!!!"

He charged at him, bringing his saber down over his head, but Dewey rolled on the floor behind him to avoid it. Renton turned and fought him back with all his rage and anger for this soulless man. Dewey kicked him in the stomach and sent him flying across the room, landing hard on the floor as Dewey escaped out the door, running to the grey sedan waiting for him, driven by his chiefs of intelligence the Ageha sisters. Renton quickly ran out the door with his saber in his scabbard, Thompson in his hand, quickly followed by Dominic Anemone and everyone in Dog Company. Talho, who had still been at the window watching this scene, ran to the other side of the townhouse and saw the hated Commissar, the tyrant who imprisoned her and Holland long ago, trying to make a quick getaway.

"OH NO YOU DON'T!!!!" Renton yelled in his masculine booming voice. "SHOOT HIM!!!"

Dominic, Anemone, Talho, Renton and the soldiers opened fire as the Colonel ran for the car, all the while Renton yelling like a madman.

"KILL HIM! SMASH HIM! SQUASH HIM! CRUUUUUUSH HIIIIIIIIMMMM!!!!!!!"

Dewey quickly got into the car, but not before firing his TT-9 pistol at the soldiers, hitting Renton in the shoulder. He closed the door, but heard Renton yell the words that haunted him.

"YOU'LL NEVER WIN, DEWEY! YOU WILL PAY FOR ALL YOU HAVE DONE!!!!!"

The car sped away, leaving all of them in the dust as Renton collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, utterly exhausted, knowing he failed in his attempt to end the conflict. He cursed to himself as Dominic Anemone and Talho all gathered around him, looking upon their commander, wounded, weary, and seemingly on the edge of his sanity.

"Goddammit…goddammit…I failed…I let him get away…"

"Doesn't matter," Talho said quietly to her brother-in-law.

"I thought I could do it. I really thought I could it…I thought I could end it, and we could go home…"

"We'll get him yet," Dominic said gently in sympathy for his old friend. "Don't worry about that. We'll get him somehow." Renton breathed heavily, looking up to the sky, searching for God and searching for a reason why these things always had to happen to him.

"Oh…God…" Renton said weakly. "What have I done…to deserve this? What have we done to deserve this?"

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Renton," Anemone said quietly. "You did your best." Renton nodded weakly as he breathed slowly and heavily, looking up into the sky, trying to find some consolation with God, surely looking down from his throne on high in Paradise at this, the scene of one giving his all to preserve and defend what was right.

"Let's go back…let's get out of here…please…let's go back."

Talho and the others nodded as they started back to their headquarters. Dominic lifted his old friend up onto his back and carried him back to the headquarters, where the others, who had heard the whole duel from Talho's transmission on the radio, were waiting for them. On the way back, Renton lamented and admitted his miscalculation.

"You and Holland were right all along, Dom. I never should have gone. Now the whole thing is sure to go on a lot longer. I'm really sorry about all this. This is all my fault."

"Everyone makes mistakes, chief," Dominic said smiling. "Nobody's perfect."

"Right you are, Dom…" Renton closed his eyes breathed slowly, trying to rest up his body after this harrowing experience.

They reached the headquarters and everyone looked in shock and surprise at seeing the commander, bloodied and wounded, barely conscious, on Dominic's back. Murmurs and whispers ran through the crowd as they approached the farmhouse that made their headquarters.

"What did that tyrant do to him?"

"You think he'll make it?"

"What the hell happened to him?"

"Is he going to be okay, you think?"

Dominic and the others looked at their worried hopeful faces, seeing in them the deep concern they had for their leader. He said out loud, to no one in particular,

"He'll make it. He's a tough old fox."

They reached the farmhouse and the front door opened to find Eureka, decked in her usual white and blue knee-length dress, her long dark wavy hair flowing over her shoulders. She gasped and nearly fainted at the sight of her husband on Dominic's back.

"Please…don't tell me…don't tell me he's…"

"Don't worry, Eureka," Anemone said reassuringly. "He's not dead. He put up one hell of a fight, but he took a real beating."

"He'll make it, sister," Talho said smiling. "You got a real fighter for a husband. He's as tough as they come."

"He certainly is, Talho. That's why I love him."

Eureka took him in her arms and carried him off to the aid station as all looked on with smiles on their faces at the sight of them. They really loved each other. The son they had made them stronger. And when they were together, there was nothing they could not do. Love was a powerful thing, striving in the both of them.

A little later in the day, when the fight was over and the Reds defeated once again, Renton was still in the aid station, slowly trying to recuperate from his wounds, with his wife at his side. Eureka stroked his hand as he slowly breathed, struggling with each breath. Talho and the others weren't kidding when they said he had taken a beating. But somehow she knew he would make it. He was a tough old fox. From now on, however, he would fight with her at his side. She would make sure of that. He stirred and opened his eyes to find his darling wife by his side, smiling.

"H-hi love," he said weakly.

"Hello, darling," she responded smiling.

"Well, I came back like I promised."

"I knew you would, anyway, Renton. You've always kept your promises."

"T-that I have." He coughed slightly as he tried to regain his breath. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."

"It doesn't matter, now, darling. You're here and that's all that's important."

"Yeah, that is true."

"You feeling any better, darling?"

"About as good as can be expected right now."

"Renton...nobody actually told me what happened..."

"Don't worry about it darling. The main thing is that I'm home safe with you and our children. That's all that counts right now."

"You're right, of course. I'm just worried."

"We all have a right to be. Your brother is still out there trying to spread his evil ways."

"Brother can't hold out any longer, Renton. I think he's on his last leg, after what happened today."

"He is. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knows he won't be fighting this battle much longer. But he's still a persistent son of a bitch."

"Brother ran away from you, Renton when he knew he couldn't win. It just proves to me that he's like the rest of them: a bully and a coward."

"Well one thing that pisses me off is that he refuses to recognize our child." Eureka thought this would be the moment to talk to him about their promise.

"Renton..." She began.

"How is Timmy by the way?"

"He's as good as gold and better. He's asleep in his crib right now."

"I hope he wasn't too fussy while I was gone."

"No. James and Annette kept him entertained."

"That's good." Eureka's smile was wiped off her face as she spoke to him seriously, intent on making a promise to stand and fight together from now on.

"Renton, I don't want you going out like that again without me."

"But…I don't want you in any more danger, love. We have a new son that needs his mother. I can't have you out there with me knowing that."

"Darling, when you and I got married we agreed to share our lives, good times and bad. Every challenge that comes at us we tackle together."

"Well this is one exception Eureka. If something happens to me, you, or both of us, I would hate to see our family orphaned."

"That's why we'll protect each other."

"Eureka..."

"Renton, we're a team. If we have to fight, we fight together or not at all."

"Yeah, but...our family..."

"We can protect our family when we're together, darling! Because together we can do anything. Defeat any foe, overcome any obstacle!"

"I just don't know if I can take that risk hon."

"I think we can, Renton."

"I'm just not sure of that Eureka. I mean...with Timmy..."

"Renton, I have enough faith in you that we can do this together." Renton smiled, seeing the truth in her words.

"Well, I guess with you by my side, anything is possible."

"Now there's the man I met eight years ago."

"Well, I wasn't quite a man yet," he said chuckling. "But I know what you mean." Eureka rested her head on Renton's chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart, and his rising and falling breath.

"You were better than anyone I ever knew back then Renton. That's what made you a man to me."

Renton just smiled as he hugged his wife tightly, happy not only to be home safe at her side, but alive as well.

The battle ended in another victory for the GekkoState Alliance, leaving the UBF crippled and unable to wage aggressive warfare. Renton and Eureka now made the promise to each other that they would always defend each other in whatever battles may lie ahead. It wasn't just a promise; it was their duty to each other as husband and wife. Eureka was right: together they could do anything. Nothing was impossible, as long as one had faith and love in their hearts.

Dewey took what remained of his force and withdrew into the hills between Salisa Olne and Tresoir, to try and gain new recruits and assess just what damage had been done. He knew the truth. He knew that Renton was now his brother-in-law and he was an uncle to a nephew. The thought of being related to the boy he despised made him resolve to continue. He wouldn't see Renton again, he knew that. But he was not ready to be humiliated again by him. All he could do was prepare himself for what would surely be his final few stands. This conflict was lost, and yet he was going to continue. He would not come back to the Soviet Union empty-handed. He would win or die trying.

* * *

A/N: Wow. Dewey is pretty much finished now. The next few chapters are going to be intense. And Renton and Eureka finally had their son! YAY! (blows horn and showers confetti) Congratulations, Renton and Eureka! As my friend Guardian of the Hell Gate would say, KAWAII!!!! Anyway, here's a preview of the next chapter: 

_The beast retreats to the city where the invasion of the Republic began, severely crippled. When a small force of the beast learns the truth behind the beast's plan, they defect and turn to the Resistance as they close in around the fallen city. A battle is imminent, as well as a clash between the man and an old friend who is the beast's last surviving and closest minion. Will the man show his old friend the light?_

**Next Time: Battle of Tresoir**


	33. Chapter 33: Battle of Tresoir

**Chapter Thirty-three: Battle of Tresoir**

**September 20****th****, 1946**

**Tresoir, California**

More than a month had passed, as both sides tried to entrap the other in numerous skirmishes and altercations on the roads around Tresoir and Salisa Olne. All the while Dewey tired endlessly trying to find new recruits and new officers, as he slowly withdrew to his first and now only trophy in this attempt to overthrow the Republic: Tresoir. He had gambled from the very beginning and he was losing, but he kept playing on and on, addicted, not knowing when it was time to quit, not knowing when it was time to face facts and admit defeat. He would never go back to his leader empty handed. He would succeed or die trying. He always was one who never knew when to face and accept reality, accept the truth.

His command structure was shattered. Almost all of his officers who had come with him at the start of this, many of them old friends from the other neighborhood, had either been captured or killed. Debretskoy was dead, Pavlenko was dead, and Vervanev had been captured. The only reliable commander he had left was Pavel Dolgorukhov, and he was losing his strength and the fire that once made him a feared Red officer. He had appointed the leaders of the seditious organizations that joined them to military commands, and they were usually undependable and clumsy when it came to military matters. They were more political officers than anything else. The Ageha Squad, now known as the Swallowtails, kept their loyalties to him to the end, and they would share whatever fate came to him.

Pavel Dolgorukhov, now 24, was starting to lose the fire that made him an invaluable officer. His rise through the ranks from captain to lieutenant colonel did him no good, as he could see the mission was failing. He still believed fiercely in the ideology that guided him here, or that's what he thought he believed. All the more, he was growing unsure and weary, losing the charisma and getting that disease of the old soldier, losing the spirit to pick up the rifle and head on into battle. There was nothing that could be done, though. He had orders. Orders were meant to be obeyed.

Even the leaders of the seditious organizations were beginning to have doubts about their mission and their chances for success. One such member was Tucker Bergeron, President of the Bolshevik League. Recently he and his chief aide Thaddeus Lewis had come across an old issue of RayOut, dating back to mid December of last year, detailing a conference the little resistance had with a political analyst known as Dr. Gregory "Bear" Egan. In his special car, Bergeron tossed the magazine onto his aide's lap and asked him, point blank,

"Is everything that is in that article true? The role of the Red Army as the vehicle for Revolution? The collapse of the Free World, country by country? The destruction of the world in a nuclear war? Is everything that has ever happened since the October Revolution part of a plan that Lenin and the Bolsheviks had conjured up? Knowing that innocent lives would be enslaved and destroyed by it all?"

Lewis said nothing. Even he had his doubts about all this. The plan that the Bolsheviks had was World Revolution as a means of achieving power. It had always been World Revolution. It will always be World Revolution. It had been like that from the very beginning. A quest for power. Lewis only looked at the article, seething in anger knowing he had been deceived and cheated. Bergeron nodded and looked back out the window, looking out at the ruined city through the pouring rain.

"I see."

They drove on through the pounding rain through the ruined streets of Tresoir, completely decimated and destroyed, a virtual wasteland, a pile of rubble. After almost a year of Soviet occupation, the scars ran deep. A brutal military regime. Strict food rations. Violence whenever riots broke out. The thing Renton had warned others about time and again was here and it seemed now that the thing Renton was fighting against was slowly withering away. Nothing could stop Renton now. He could end the whole thing now if he wanted to but he was waiting for his supplies to catch up to him. He also was taking his time on purpose, drawing the Reds out in the open and catching them in a pitched battle, and starving them more and more as he knew the only place they could get their food was from foraging, and everyone knew to hide their food from Soviet soldiers.

That night, Bergeron and Lewis consulted with one another about what to do. Lewis was considering leaving the force, to which end Bergeron had no objections.

"I'll lend you a high-speed motorcycle," Bergeron said sitting on Lewis' bed. "However, be sure to leave while it's still raining." Lewis said nothing. He only sat and looked at the magazine article on his desk, the anger swelling in him now. Bergeron took a puff of a cigarette he got out of his pocket. "What's the matter, Lewis? Aren't you going to use it?" Lewis hung his head down.

"Writhing about all on my own will not solve anything now. If I am to be a true citizen of the world, I have to face the truth as Ziebach said." Bergeron smiled at his aide.

"Those are the wisest words you've ever said." Lewis looked to his commander, seeing him staring at the magazine article, wondering, pondering, thinking over what must happen.

"It's true what they say about the press: in print you can write about anything, and it can be difficult to discern what is true and what is a lie, right?" He looked sternly to his old aide and closest of friends. "We have to verify it." Lewis' eyes widened to the size of saucers, shocked at what Tucker Bergeron, the President of the Bolshevik League, was suggesting. "We have to make sure that it isn't just some tall tale or a piece of propaganda. We have to be sure we haven't being lied to this whole time."

»»»»»

**GekkoState Alliance headquarters, outskirts of Tresoir**

Dr. Egan had rejoined Renton and his motley crew a few weeks ago when they left Salisa Olne, to provide Hans Ziebach more information for the next issues of RayOut. The supply system had slowed down due to the bad weather and so they could not move until the supplies had caught up to them. Renton was slowly biding his time, letting his enemy twist in the wind and waiting for the moment to show that this cat had claws. He sat at his desk, waiting for something to happen with nothing to do. Just then the phone on his desk rang. He quickly picked it up and put the receiver to his ears.

"Hello?"

"Is this Commander-in-chief Renton Thurston?"

"Who's asking?"

"This is Tucker Bergeron. I'm the President of the Bolshevik League." Renton sat up, taken aback by this. He frowned as Dominic entered the room.

"Why are you calling up?"

"I wish to speak with the political analyst known as Dr. Egan." Renton's eyes widened.

"You want to talk with Dr. 'Bear'?"

"Yes, if it is possible." Dominic stepped forward.

"Who are you talking to, chief?" Dominic asked curiously.

"President Bergeron. The head of the Bolshevik League." Dominic stepped back in shock, at hearing the name of one of the seditious organizations that joined forces with the Soviets.

"What do those commies want?"

"They want to talk with Dr. 'Bear'." Dominic frowned.

"Don't listen to them. It's a trick." Holland came in the room dressed in his white Army uniform.

"What's all this then?" Holland asked.

"Seems one of our commie friends wants to chat with us…" Dominic said suspiciously. Holland turned to his brother-in-law.

"Who is it?"

"It's Tucker Bergeron, leader of the Bolshevik League."

"What does he want?"

"A conversation with the Doctor."

"What?" At that moment Bergeron spoke again, and Renton turned the volume up for both of them to hear.

"I and my aide Thaddeus Lewis will be the only ones who will enter GekkoState headquarters. As long as we are there, our personnel will not move to attack."

"How do we know we can trust this guy, chief?" Dominic said suspiciously.

"We don't," Renton said resignedly. "That's the problem."

"Listen to him, brother," Holland said crossing his arms. "He's a respectable man."

"Wait a sec," Dominic protested. "Since when do you know this guy?"

"I can tell that much about a man after a battle or two." Renton chuckled lightheartedly.

"Well, there you have it," Renton said smiling. Dominic only laughed seeing truth in the words of Renton's old friend. "You have my permission, Mr. Bergeron. Just be sure to keep your end of the deal."

"It is like your friend said, sir," Bergeron spoke. "I'm a respectable man." Bergeron hung up and all went outside into the pounding September rain to wait for this man. This was a big risk Renton was taking, but nonetheless they had to do it.

»»»»»

**A few minutes later**

A grey Rolls-Royce drove up to the headquarters and two figures wearing olive green trench coats and red armbands with a yellow hammer and sickle stepped out of the car, looking out at the some of the personnel of GekkoState who had come out. Bergeron first turned his eyes to the man he had talked to. The Commander-in-chief.

He was just less than six feet, and had a very young look to him. He looked to be no more than 20 at the oldest. He wore a light grey trench coat, buttoned and tied, and olive green slacks tucked into tall black boots. A brown flat cap topped his shaggy brown-haired head, cocked to one side. The face seemed old and worn, tired and wanting to go home, the ages of pain and agony lining his face. The green eyes pierced through the dimly lit scene and into the very souls of these two men. There was a general sense of tiredness and pain in his look, crying out to God, "Make it all stop!" The fighting and killing he had done for most of his life had not treated him well.

Bergeron then turned his eyes to a man standing next to him, a little shorter than the Commander.

He had shaggy black hair under an army green garrison cover, with one silver bar on its side denoting the rank of First Lieutenant in the United States Army. He wore the usual uniform of any officer in the Army, giving him an impressive imposing look. His grey eyes had a sharp and stern look to them, a look of suspicion for these communists. The suspicion was more evident in the fact that he carried a BAR at his side, aiming it at them from his hip.

Bergeron turned to one last man standing a few feet away, about the height of the Commander.

He had grey scraggly hair, thin sideburns and a small goatee around the bottom of his lip. Around his neck was a yellow ascot, its bright color standing out in the dark rainy evening, the only lights being provided by the lights of the large townhouse and the lampposts on the street. The insignia on his epaulettes denoted the rank of a Brigadier General. He was decked in a dark grey White Army uniform, black boots and dark grey fingerless gloves. He had his arm slung over the shoulder of a young woman, about 19, with short black hair and a flowery birthmark on her right cheek, dressed in her usual white and violet calf-length dress.

"What is it you want from Dr. Egan?" Renton asked finally. The tall red-haired man standing across from them, Bergeron, held up the issue of RayOut dated December 1945.

"Is what's in this magazine the truth?" Renton chuckled crossing his arms.

"Well, fuck me running."

"I'll be damned," Holland said with a surprised smile on his face. Dominic lowered his BAR and spoke.

"We've all heard the big speeches that 'Commissar' has made about the Revolution since the very start. What's in RayOut is completely different." He smiled wide. "So how much did it cost you two?" The shorter man next to Bergeron, Lewis, shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his head to one side, feeling extremely ashamed to admit he bought himself when no one knew.

"I really, really don't…" Lewis began.

"I and Mr. Lewis didn't come here to have a nice little chit-chat. Now where is Dr. Egan?" Renton chuckled quietly.

"You needn't look any further, gentlemen," Renton said, adjusting his flat cap. "Here he comes now."

The two communists looked and saw a heavy-set bespectacled man who looked to be in his early fifties in an open white overcoat and grey slacks limp out on a cane into the open space in the pouring rain, yawning. He stopped by his old patient Renton and looked at the two communists with tired eyes. He pulled out from his pocket a small tape labeled "12/10/45 GekkoState Conference".

"I was getting really tired of explaining over and over again."

They walked back into the townhouse and out of the pouring rain to try and discern what the truth was.

»»»»»

**45 minutes later**

The screen went white again as the camera ran out of film and the tape recorder stopped. Bergeron looked to Renton, seeing in his piercing green eyes a sense of knowing what they were here for now.

"Do you believe us now?" Renton said looking on at them, piercing into their very souls. "All that you just saw is the real truth of what has been going on all this time."

Bergeron sighed and lowered his head, thinking over everything that had happened, coming to terms with the fact they had been led on by an ideology rooted in hatred and tyranny. "So...this whole thing has been a big ploy for the Bolsheviks from the very start."

"You guessed right," Dominic said matter-of-factly. "All it's been for them is a fight for world domination.

"And it's costing thousands of lives in order for them to try to achieve that so called dream," Talho added.

Bergeron shook his head disappointed with himself. "Everything Lenin ever said...all the things we thought we were trying to achieve...it was all a lie, so it could benefit a select few. I ought to have known better."

"Mr. Bergeron..." Lewis began, looking on in sympathy at his commanding officer.

"Now you know why we've been fighting you so hard," Renton said with raised eyebrows.

Lewis chuckled quietly. "Of that I can now see," he said with a sense of self-disappointment in his voice.

"So what do you plan on doing now?" Talho asked.

Bergeron lifted up his red-haired head and looked at the whole lot of them. "There are two paths we can take at times like these. One is to tacitly accept it all and let events take one wherever they go, or to stand up and defend what is right and just."

"Which path are you planning on choosing?" Holland asked, seemingly knowing now what path they were going to follow.

"There is only one path," Lewis said firmly. He then removed his red armband and threw it on the ground, spitting directly on the hammer and sickle. Renton looked to Bergeron and could see in his eyes what he was planning on doing now.

"Mr. Bergeron, what is your decision?"

Bergeron looked to Renton and smiled the way one would at an old friend. He ripped off his armband and tossed it on the floor, spitting on it. "I think that is rather obvious, now, wouldn't you say so, Commander?"

"So you're planning on joining us?" Talho asked.

"We will. I cannot guarantee all back in the Bolshevik League will follow us. However..."

"However what?"

"There is always a way," Lewis said again, "to change someone's mind."

Bergeron smiled at his aide and looked to all of them. "I don't suppose you have multiple copies of the tape and film, do you?"

Renton smiled and said, "Not at the moment, no, but I'm sure we can make some for you."

"Thank you...Commander."

"You're welcome. But we must be careful. If Dewey finds out about this too soon, it could possibly mean your deaths." Bergeron shook his head slowly.

"It will not, Commander. I think the Commissar knows he's finished. Trying to kill us will accomplish nothing for him."

"Of that I'm sure, but I'd hate to lose two new recruits so early."

"Oh, there will be more than just two of us. Of that you can be certain." Renton smiled.

"I trust your word Mr. Bergeron. You are an honorable man indeed."

Bergeron and Lewis stood up and Bergeron shook his new commanding officer's hand. "It's like what your General said. I'm a respectable man."

"Well, on that note, I've only got one more thing to say to you gentlemen."

"And what is that, Commander?" Renton smiled wide.

"Welcome to GekkoState." The two former communists clicked their heels and saluted their new leader. "It shall be an honor for us, sir."

"Indeed it shall. I shall be waiting for your return and the recruits you'll be bringing with you."

"When can you have the copies of the tape and film ready? I'm going to need it to change some minds." Renton chuckled quietly.

"We'll get to it right away."

"Thank you sir."

They saluted their new commander once more and each left to their respective businesses. It was possible after all, to change someone from a mindless drone to a free-thinking human.

»»»»»

**Two days later**

After broadcasting the tape and film to the other members, the entire organization turned out and joined ranks with the so-called rebels. After seeing and hearing the truth, one could not just sit back and let everything take its course. Upon hearing the mutiny, Dewey expressed the least of concern. The state of his best soldier, Dolgorukhov, was more of an urgent concern.

"They were rather cute, even if they were a bunch of useless morons. But now they want to mutiny?"

"How would you like to proceed, Comrade Colonel?" one of the Ageha sisters asked. Dewey laughed.

"Let them do as they wish. They can't do anything to us now. More importantly, is you-know-who ready for action?"

"Da, Comrade Colonel. There are no signs of dissent in him."

"Excellent."

A plan was in the works of Dewey's mind. In order to turn the tide back in favor for the Soviets, he decided on one last gamble: as the GekkoState forces slowly began to surround the city, he would launch a large offensive and catch the rebels off-guard. Never had Dewey taken such a gamble. It was his last chance or all would be lost. Their objective: GekkoState headquarters. He assigned the chiefs of intelligence the Ageha sisters the task of finding it. It took them two days but they managed to get a rough idea of its location. Early in the morning, the Agehas had come to the Colonel with the news that they may have found it.

"We think we found it, sir," Ageha A said, flipping her short blonde hair.

"Where is it?" the Colonel asked matter-of-factly.

"Point 0, 3, 5. Southwest of the town," Ageha C said with confidence.

"So you are certain that is where it is?"

"Yes, Comrade," Ageha A said again. "We're just about 100 percent sure that is where it's located. However with the margin of error, there could be a difference of 1 kilometer." The Colonel smiled.

"Excellent work, comrades." The Ageha sisters beamed at the Colonel's approval. "Let us then proceed with Operation Neokatus."

"Da, Kamrad Polkolvnik!"

Meanwhile, back at base, all were trying to prepare for an attack to recapture the town of Tresoir, to take away Dewey's only prize. They were completely encircling the city, preparing for one final push. Everyone dug in deep and hardened themselves for the next battle, each knowing now this was a fight to the finish.

Renton, dressed in his trench coat, limped about his headquarters leaning on his old cane looking at all the scenes he witnessed and finding laughter in some places. At one such spot, he found Bergeron and Lewis asking a second lieutenant his concerns about reequipping his whole force.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"Yessiree," the lieutenant said with a wide smile. "You can trust our logistical capabilities. It will be a completely difference army than before." Bergeron only grunted and crossed his arms, still skeptical. At that point Doctor Egan came up to him and offered him a bag of candy. Renton laughed at this sight, knowing that probably Bergeron would not take it. Egan had often encouraged Renton to take some once in a while, in order to deal with his problem of stress and levels of anxiety.

"You want some?" he asked kindly.

"No, thank you," Bergeron said gruffly. "I don't like sweets."

"You're on edge because you don't have enough sugar circulating in your system." He took out two pieces and ate them in one bite, getting Bergeron more irritated than before. Renton laughed as he walked weakly along.

He was then stopped by a sight that made him seethe in anger. Some members of the organization had been reluctant to join the ranks of those who killed their comrades. One member, a blonde-haired man wearing a grey barn coat and brown slacks, was in the process of beating up Holland, pinning him against a wall. The curious thing was Holland wouldn't fight back. He was growing weak and tired recently, and his old wounds were acting up again.

"Haven't you done enough?" Holland asked. The blonde scowled at the closest friend of Renton, the feared Iron General.

"I'm just getting started!!!" the blonde yelled. Just then Talho, who had been watching this, broke in, pushing through the other organization members watching this scene.

"STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!!!!"

"It's all right," Holland said weakly. "It's just a guy thing." Talho scowled.

"Why is it that whenever men get together they always act so stupid?!?!" The blonde stirred at her words, the scowl still on his face. "It's true that we've killed people who worked with you…however I have no intention of apologizing!!!" The blonde growled. "It's not like the dilemma is going to be resolved by us apologizing, any more than it will be by you punching him. That said, you're all going to have to put that aside for the moment. We have important work that needs to be done!" The blonde tightened his grip on Holland's yellow ascot, still pinning him to the wall.

"Other work needs to be taken care of first!!!" He made a move to punch Holland but Talho shoved him aside.

"Such a fucking idiot!! What's so fun about beating up a man who is halfway to a hospital bed?!" She grabbed Holland by the hair and lifted him up off the ground, still pinned to the wall.

"Talho, stop," Holland tried to say. Talho ignored him.

"If all of you are really soldiers, then you know who this man is!!! I challenge any one of you to have the guts to lead the life this man has led and survive! This man is in so much pain it feels like half of his soul is being taken away, and yet he still fights!!!!!!"

"Talho, please stop it," Holland pleaded.

"SHUT IT! I'm not going to stop! Do you all want to know why?! Because…the Free World might be coming to an end, that is if we let Dewey and the Soviets get their way!"

The blonde growled knowing she was right.

Renton only laughed quietly at the sight of this. Talho knew that the lives of everyone and everything were on the line. If they failed it would mean the destruction of the free world and the freedom of mankind, a consequence he and no one else could take. They couldn't afford to be consumed in their differences any more. They were fighting not just for freedom from tyranny and repression and persecution, but from utter annihilation. They were fighting for their rights to live, to exist as a people. If ever this time is recorded in the history books, he thought, it will be considered a time when the free world stood up and said we won't vanish without a fight; we're going to live on. We're going to survive.

_I won't let everything my country has given us be taken away._

He walked on, but in his mind he felt a weariness take hold of him. He had made so many promises. He pledged to save the Republic. He vowed to do it any way he could, even if it meant having to carry the sin of taking a life. It was all too much for him. After everything he had to do, after all the people that he failed to protect, did he really have the right to a peaceful life with his wife and children after this? Did he really deserve all that he had?

He walked to his private quarters and lay himself down on the cot, exhausted. He looked up the ceiling trying to find comfort with God, trying to look for forgiveness, looking for someone to lift the weights that rested on his shoulders weights that seemed to keep him from living a normal life like he wanted to. Just then his wife came in and sat next to him.

"Did you see what they tried to do to brother?" she asked.

"I did," he said chuckling. "He's lucky he has Talho to stand by him."

"And I'm lucky I have you."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, darling. It was God's will that brought me together with you. He saw how we were so strong when we're together, and how powerful the bond was between us, from the moment we met. It was destiny."

"Well, I never _could_ see myself loving anyone else when I first met you, Renton. You were better than anyone I knew. You weren't like them. That's why I loved you and will always love you, Renton. You're one of a kind."

"Thank you, dear. It means a lot to hear you say that…" he sighed. Eureka looked at him with concern, sensing he was feeling weary and very tired with all this.

"What's wrong, lubov?" she asked with a caring smile. Renton turned away, feeling undeserving of her love.

"How can you love someone like me, Eureka? How is it you have the love you have for me after everything I've ever done, every person I failed to protect? I don't deserve you…"

"Don't say that ever, darling!" Eureka said shocked, squeezing his hand. "It doesn't matter to me what you've had to do to protect us! I love you because you loved me. You cared for me and gave me a wonderful family to look over. It's because you saved me from my Mother Russia and gave me a home here. Because you gave me the hope that there was a better life than the one I was leading. This is where I belong, Renton. No matter what it is you've had to do, I still love you, and I will always love you."

Renton looked to her with eyes that wanted redemption and forgiveness for everything he had done he was ashamed of.

"Eureka…I…"

"I know what's bothering you, Renton. There's nothing you have to be forgiven for, darling."

"It's not that. I'm just afraid." Eureka's grey eyes widened at that, shocked. "I've made so many promises. I said we would save the Republic. I said that by taking a stand, no matter how small, by fighting, and winning, I believe our Republic could be preserved for our descendants."

"That's what I think, too."

"And that's what I'm afraid of. I don't know what happens to us after that. If we survive this, I go back home with you and our family. But do I really have a right to that kind of life? Me, the man who had to kill in order to save you? The man who couldn't protect Timmy or Jacques or Paul or Charles or Ray or any of the others we've lost?"

At that moment, a bright-eyed lieutenant opened the door and spoke to the two young people.

"Pardon me, Commander, but it looks like the Soviets have made their move." Renton sat up on the word "Soviets". "The radios are about to fry from all the Russian chatter we've been hearing. Looks like the Reds are deploying on a widespread scale." Renton looked to his wife, both knowing what must be done.

"That must mean there is an offensive coming." Eureka nodded. "Get Doggie and Gidget working on this right away!" The lieutenant saluted promptly.

"Yes, sir!" The lieutenant left and shut the door behind him, leaving them both in the slight darkness that was there before.

"Let's just do what we must, Renton," Eureka said grasping his hand tightly. "We can be afraid and worry after everything is over." Renton smiled, seeing comfort and truth in the words of hers, just as there always was.

"You got it."

»»»»»

Dewey's last chance was approaching. This was really an all or nothing gamble. He didn't have many cards left to play; his forces were close to completely shattered. His expeditionary force, once an army 4,500 strong, was reduced to less than 2,000 remained. Most of his artillery was gone, captured and destroyed in one of the skirmishes between Salisa Olne and Tresoir. The only artillery he could call upon now was his eighth Oratorio mortar battery. The armored cars were all but gone. This was his last chance. He listened intently as each of the Ageha sisters and other Red Army personnel read off different information coming giving him an update on their current status…

"It is now past six o'clock. The arrival of all personnel at scheduled starting points has been confirmed. The margin of error is two and a half minutes."

"Oratorio battery Number Eight and all armored cars are operating with no difficulties. Five minutes until full deployment is complete."

"Committing fire TRPs to the western Marin headlands now."

"Status of all combat commanders verified. All troops have reached their starting points. Operation Neokatus commencing countdown."

Dewey took a radio receiver and put it to his mouth, speaking to his men what may be his final speech to them. Little did he know that the members of GekkoState and the United States Army were listening in as well, hearing the grand erudite speech of a man whose cause was dying fast.

"Comrades, this is Dewey Novakov, the chief commander of Red Army expeditionary unit known as the United Bolshevik Force. Please stay calm as you listen to my following announcement: the country we are living on right now is actually Renton's mother country, America, the same America where a group of men set forth the ideas of democracy and liberty 170 years ago. However this country has since been controlled by the capitalists, an aggressive and dangerous group of men whose only goal is power and oppression! And so I ask for what reason have we, the Soviets, the children of the Revolution, come to this country to begin with? Was it to bow down and live in fear of the bourgeois capitalist oppressors like cowardly weaklings? I would like you all to think hard, and remember the reason why we were sent by Comrade Stalin to this nation of vanity in the first place. Soon another battle between our forces and the forces of GekkoState, supported always and everywhere by the capitalists on high, will begin. It will be the result of another treacherous attack by the Americans, who wish for domination of the world, resulting in annihilation of the human race. Our great father of the Revolution Comrade Lenin is no longer around, and our great leader Comrade Stalin who is supposed to guide us is not here either. However, as an officer of the great Red Army, and as a fellow Communist Party member, I cannot just sit idly and wait for everything to happen! We will now attempt to rebel against the Americans! The survival of the Revolution, and indeed the existence of the human race depend upon the outcome. I am certain that this operation will be a success. Soon the control of America will be in Soviet hands!"

One of the Ageha sisters came to the Commissar, holding a radio transmitter. Dewey picked up the receiver and shouted the fateful words:

"Oratorio number 8! Fire!"

»»»»»

The GekkoState and United States Army troops were already in their defenses, ready to repel the attack. The time of truth was fast arriving. Their guns were aimed to the horizon, where the Soviets would surely come from. This would be their last offensive. They knew the Revolution was finished, defeated, on its last gasp of breath. This attack would be a useless meaningless gesture, prolonging the inevitable.

Renton sat from an observation post, looking through his binoculars at more than 6,000 men in their defenses. He could see Holland in his White Army uniform, Dominic with his old company, and thousands of eager faces ready to repel the last attack of the invaders. He looked to the horizon and saw a long line of figures, flags flying, marching slowly toward them. The mortar shelling from Oratorio number eight had begun and with it, Operation Neokatus. Through the crackle of the radio at his side he could hear the Soviets chanting an old patriotic song from the last world war, one he hoped he wouldn't hear again…

_Rise up, huge country,  
Rise up for a mortal fight!  
With the dark fascist force,  
With the damn horde. _

_Refrain x 2:__  
__Let noble fury__  
__Boil up like a wave__  
__A people's war is going on,__  
__A sacred war!_

We'll give repulse to oppressors  
Of all fervent ideas,  
Rapists, robbers,  
Tormenters of people.

_Refrain_

Black wings don't dare  
To fly over the homeland,  
Her vast fields  
The enemy doesn't dare to trample.

_Refrain_

To the rotten fascist scum  
We'll drive a bullet into the forehead,  
For the rabble of humanity  
We'll knock together a solid casket! 

_Refrain x 2_

A shiver went down Renton's spine as the Soviets approached, coming closer and closer. He looked down and saw the crews of an artillery battery preparing to fire. He looked again to the Soviets advancing and a tear ran down his cheek, hearing the people of his mother country singing the song like an army of machines, no feeling in their voices. His roots ran deep in Russia, and now here he was fighting his old mother country. He must do what he had to in order to protect his country.

_Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Eureka. I'm going to have to kill your brothers and sisters. But if that is what you call a sin, then I will just have to carry that sin. Because no matter what happens, I'm going to protect you, Eureka!_

He looked down to the guns again and heard a lieutenant shout the words.

"BATTERY! SUPPRESSING FIRE!!!!"

The guns opened fire with a boom that practically shook the ground. The shells traveled through the air with a whoosh and landed on the ground with an explosion, casting giant holes in the lines as they came closer and closer. The mortar shells reigned down on the trenches and foxholes but the GekkoState troops and United States Army troops were dug in deep, and the bombardment did minimal damage. Renton watched with teary eyes as the Soviets approached the lines and then he heard an officer give the order.

"OPEN FIRE!!!!"

The men in the trenches poured a massive volley into the ranks of the Soviets, cutting down the whole first line in a few short seconds. The Reds broke into a run, charging toward the lines to try and overwhelm the rebels even if they knew the attack was doomed. Small groups of Reds tried to make gallant stands and lead the way into the trenches, only to be quickly cut down by a hail of bullets, a flash of blood and a low monotonous cry of pain. Renton practically broke down in tears from seeing all this, the thing he had taken part in for five years, five years of scars running deep into his very soul, five years of memories he longed to forget. There was nothing that could be done about it however. People would always die in war. It was the nature of war itself. It was unavoidable. He tacitly accepted it, but always with a heavy heart for the people he lost. He looked down and saw acts of bravery on both sides, death around, behind, in front, and the dark side of man everywhere he looked. There was no honor. There was no glory. There was only survival and devotion to the cause.

Soon the Soviets turned and he heard the tweeting of whistles from the various officers as they rose from the trenches and surged forward, repelling Operation Neokatus and carrying out their own offensive, and driving liberty home by the point of the bayonet. Renton took that as his cue to move. He got up and put his brown flat cap on his head, grabbed his belt with his saber, and walked down the stairs to where Eureka and a car were waiting for him. Without saying a word, they got in and sped off into town, following the route of their army as they swarmed into Dewey's last prize, the only thing he had left to show for all he had accomplished in this year of trying to destroy the Republic.

»»»»»

**Tresoir Town Hall**

An hour and a half had passed and Dewey's plan was failing fast. Dolgorukhov knew it, as he sat there in the city hall, waiting for what he knew would come. He was to defend the town hall to the last man, and orders were meant to be followed. He knew that someone would come and order to surrender, and he would have to fight. And he knew who would come. Holland.

Holland and Dolgorukhov were old friends from years ago, but when Renton came over to Russia, their friendship was crippled, when Holland took him as his friend. Dolgorukhov shoved him aside, and chose not to listen to him and his stories about life in America and how there was a life better than the one they were leading. Dolgorukhov and Holland drifted apart as Holland sided more with Renton and rejected the old Bolshevik creed.

In the streets Holland and Talho fought side by side as they and their troops from the Russian Brigade swarmed the streets, throwing the Soviets back. They shot and killed every Red that came at them, getting a slight spattering of blood on their clothes, marking them for the sin they had to carry to protect everything they held precious to them. They quickly overwhelmed the defenses of the city hall and Holland moved forward toward the doors. Talho soon came to his side, but Holland held her back.

"I must face Dolgorukhov alone," Holland said with a heavy heart.

"Holland…"

"He and I are old friends. I'm the only one who can turn him. Please, Talho, do this for me." Talho stepped back knowing he was right.

"Just please be careful."

"I will."

Holland kicked the doors in and stepped into the hall. There were no guards anywhere. They had all left. He then called out,

"PAVEL! COME OUT AND FACE ME!!!!"

He then heard footsteps and looked up to the staircase and saw his old friend, Pavel Dolgorukhov, slowly walk down the stairs to face his old friend. His black hair was brushed to own side and parted down the center. His sideburns had grown longer to the bottom of his face and his mustache hugged at his wet lips, perspiring with anxiety and an inner conflict in himself: should he stay with Dewey or should he leave? His eyes were dark and brooding, glinting in the light as it shined through the glass of the hall. He wore a Red Army uniform, the insignia on his epaulettes denoting the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, with tall black boots and an olive green cape flowing behind him. At his side he carried a saber with a gold bell guard tucked in a leather scabbard. He soon reached the bottom of the stairs and greeted his long-lost friend.

"Zdrastvytye, General Holland Novakov."

"Zdrastytye, Lieutenant-colonel Dolgorukhov." Dolgorukhov smiled.

"I knew you would come for me Holland."

"I'll never give up on a friend, Pavel. I know you can still be saved." Dolgorukhov laughed.

"You are wasting your time, my old friend. I have seen the capitalists for what they are: weak, afraid and pathetic. Communism is the way of the future. You have forgotten that lesson, Holland."

"Those lessons in school back in Russia meant nothing to me. Not since I met Renton and saw him for who he was: better than anyone I knew."

"Still worshiping your new-found friend I see. I wonder what has become of him since. He certainly has gained notoriety here."

"And rightly so. He's the most courageous, bravest, and honorable man I have ever known." Dolgorukhov laughed. "Pavel, my old friend, things don't have to end like this. You can defect and join us."

"Nyet, Holland. This confrontation can only end in death…yours or mine. Once again we shall face each other in fencing combat, and the victor shall decide the very fate of the Revolution." He drew his saber and brought it to the en-garde position. Holland, reluctant to fight his old friend, slowly reached for the saber locked in his scabbard.

"I will do whatever I must. There is only one thing: the Revolution is dead. It was dead before it even began here."

"Of that we shall see."

Holland slowly drew his saber and the fight began.

Holland attacked first, hitting for his head but Dolgorukhov blocked it, and Holland kicked him in the chest, sending him back a few feet to the bottom of the stairs. Dolgorukhov struck for his side but Holland parried it and threw him back again. Dolgorukhov, undaunted, flailed his saber around and struck at him three times for the head chest and leg, all blocked as they went up the stairs of the hall. Holland thrust for his chest but was denied the pleasure and turned a full revolution on his feet and struck at his back, only to be parried again. Dolgorukhov lunged at him but Holland sidestepped to the right as they reached a wide landing. They stopped their dueling and stared at each other, looking into their long-lost friend's eyes and trying to find the good within them.

"You continue to amaze me, Holland," Dolgorukhov said smiling. "If only you had joined us in our fight for Revolution then you might have become one of the most powerful men in the world. But you were a fool! You chose to listen to Renton, and bought into his empty ideas, and followed that hypocritical system known to you as 'democracy'. All you ever saw was an enormous factory of party members, all you ever imagined was the Red Army steamrolling through Europe and the world to crush the capitalists. I cannot begin to imagine what power you might have wielded had you joined us. You were a fool to give it up and follow Renton's path."

"I am stronger as an American citizen than I ever was before I met Renton. Renton showed me there was a better life than the one we were living. He showed that to all of us. You chose not to listen to him and instead follow the Bolshevik creed."

"I saw him for who he was: a pretending upstart bourgeois American who only seeks power for himself."

"You got it backwards, Pavel. That's the last thing he wants. All he's ever wanted was a quiet life with his wife, my sister, and his family. All he wants is the life he led before all this began. He's better than any of us. He always has been. You're only dooming yourself to your own death by choosing not to listen to what he taught me and my sister."

"No, Holland. It is _you_ who are doomed!"

They raised their sabers and clashed again, sending sparks through the air. Holland broke apart from the deadlock and kicked Dolgorukhov in the face by turning on his feet. They slowly went back up the stairwell. Holland struck at him again and again, but Dolgorukhov was a tough old fighter, and he would not be defeated easily. Holland charged him and attacked him fiercely backing him up the stairs all the while trying to turn him away from the life that would only end in destruction. He struck first to his leg then his head before turning 360 degrees on his feet and struck at his leg again. Dolgorukhov then struck for his back, but Holland blocked it, forced their sabers down and punched him in the face with the back of his hand, casting him further up the stairwell. They came to the first level and their sabers locked, each trying to overpower the other.

"You are growing weary, Holland," Dolgorukhov said cracking a smile. "I can sense it. Your strength is faltering. Everything Renton ever taught you is failing you as the great ideas of Bolshevism give me strength. Soon this shall be over!!"

"I have not faltered, Pavel. You have been misled by the Bolsheviks. You have been consumed by a hateful ideology! Can't you see it's destroying you?"

"The only thing I see is a friend who has turned his back on his Motherland. You're the one who will be destroyed!"

They broke apart as they circled each other, and then Dolgorukhov attacked him, forcing him up the next flight of stair. Dolgorukhov flung his saber around like a great axe, while Holland kept him self clam and composed and never struck down his old friend, knowing he could still be saved from the life he was leading. There was a ray of hope for every man. Even for a mindless drone. The fighting continued to a stalemate as they went back and back up the stairs, eventually coming to the very roof of the town hall. Holland and Dolgorukhov broke apart but quickly fought again. Dolgorukhov brought his saber over Holland's head but Holland parried it and went for his chest, but that move was blocked as well. Their sabers clashed once more and Dolgorukhov forced them down, and then struck at him again three times, trying to score a hit, but Holland was an excellent fencer. The lessons from Renton really showed. Dolgorukhov tried to stab him in the chest but Holland caught it and twirled his saber around until he forced it out of Dolgorukhov's hand and into the air. Dolgorukhov quickly caught his saber and tried striking at him again but Holland soon found an open spot in his defense and exploited it. He struck at Dolgorukhov's shoulder, fighting arm and legs, leaving him mortally wounded.

Weakened and beaten, the ideology fading in his mind, Dolgorukhov dropped his saber and fell to the ground, coughing up blood and holding his wounds tightly.

"Im…impossible…" he said coughing. "Impossible! I…I cannot be beaten. I…am a messenger of the Revolution."

"Now you see that you have been misled by an ideology only rooted in hatred."

"Still…(cough, cough)…still spouting the wisdom of Renton, I see. Perhaps there is more truth in his...democracy...than I ever believed. I cannot help but wonder, Holland: what would have happened if our positions had been reversed? What if fate had decreed I would meet with Renton Thurston and befriend him? Could I have defected to America, as you did?" He coughed more blood and listened as Holland spoke to him the truth.

"Of course. He would've taken you in and helped you with open arms. But you sided with Dewey, sealing your fate until the end." Dolgorukhov nodded weakly.

"I suppose...I suppose you speak the truth. I alone must accept responsibility for the path I chose. I bought into the propaganda and wanted to see Communism's final triumph. But...(cough)...I know now that is not the plan destiny has, Holland. Your democracy may triumph...perhaps...but never my ideology."

"It will triumph Pavel. Unfortunately you may not be able to see that happen in your condition."

"You're right...my old friend. Just as you always were when you first met Renton. I know I will never see democracy's final triumph...but...I must accept my fate. And in the end...as the darkness slowly takes me...I am...nothing." He fell to the floor, wounded terribly and breathed his last words. "Forgive me, my old friend."

"All is forgiven, Pavel."

"I knew you would say that...Holland. I'll see you...on the other side."

"Of course, in due time my friend. In due time."

"Tell Renton...you were right." He smiled and closed his eyes, breathing a final sigh before silence fell over the macabre scene. Holland's old friend had seen the light, even if it was too late. It proved one could be turned from a brainwashed drone to a freethinking human. That was what mattered.

"Goodbye, my old friend," Holland said with a small tear in his eye.

»»»»»

The Soviets had been routed, and were streaming out of the town. Renton and Eureka fought their way through the streets with any Reds that chose to keep resisting. Renton tried not to let his anger take hold of him but sometimes he couldn't help but let it out. Renton was human, and what happened was human. He was swarmed by Soviet officers who tried to strike him down, only to be defeated one by one.

"Your Revolution is dead! It died the moment you invaded my home!"

He slashed one Soviet across the abdomen as he charged at him, and Eureka fought off more and more Soviets, trying to defend herself, her husband their family and their Republic.

"Keep away, all of you!" Eureka screamed. "You betrayed us! Just like Lenin and the Bolsheviks did! You betrayed us all!!!"

Renton stabbed another Red that came at him and he yelled through clenched teeth, with anger in his voice, "I GROW TIRED OF THIS!" Renton slashed one more Soviet and they were finally left alone, still strong after everything. Renton kindly offered his wife a drink from his canteen which she took gladly. Renton took a drink from it himself and smiled. "That ought to get us by for a while." They walked down through the streets regaining their mental strength for what would be the last few fights. Renton stopped and held Eureka back. Eureka, fearful and worried, looked up to Renton, his brown hair swaying in the wind, his piercing green eyes looking around as if waiting for someone to come.

"Renton, what's wrong?"

"I sense…something…"

"What?"

"Eureka, hide." Eureka looked at him confusedly.

"What?"

"Hide!"

They both hid behind an alleyway and listened, for what Eureka could not tell. Renton peeked out and saw a familiar figure walking down the street across from them. He had grey hair and blue eyes and wore a Red Army uniform, the epaulettes denoting the rank of Colonel. He wore a green cape and blue trousers with yellow piping tucked into tall black boots and carrying a saber with a gold bell guard tucked into a leather scabbard. He knew who it was in an instant, and when Eureka saw, she knew too. It was him.

"This time, Renton, we face him together."

"I was just going to say that, darling."

They waited for him to pass, and they were unnoticed. Renton then produced a pistol and carefully, quietly, the two of them followed this Soviet colonel. They turned a corner and the Colonel stopped, looking around, feeling like he was being followed. He shrugged it off and kept walking, Renton and Eureka slowly drawing closer to him. The Colonel stopped again and looked around. Renton then spoke, aiming his pistol at the back of his head.

"Looking for somebody?"

The Colonel turned around and found a young couple staring at them. One was a boy of 20, wearing a knee-length grey trench coat and olive green slacks tucked into tall black boots. A saber sheathed in a black scabbard rested at his side, held by a belt around the boy's trench coat. A brown flat cap adorned his head, full of brown hair, cocked to one side. His eyes were a piercing green, seeing into all things and all people. There were the signs of a slight mustache under his nose but it had been shaved, retaining his young look. Next to the boy was a girl of almost 17, with dark wavy hair and grey eyes, wearing a knee-length blue and white dress. The face had the look of not a child but a mature woman. She grasped a saber with gold bell guard, holding it at the en-garde position. The Colonel smiled and in an instant recognized who these people were.

"So…Renton, we meet again." He then turned to the little girl. "Sister…it's been a long time. You're looking very well."

"Thank you, Dewey," Eureka said, not changing the stern expression on her face. "I'm sorry I cannot say the same for you." The Colonel laughed.

"Really I am the one that should be sorry…sorry for you."

"And why, if you please?"

"I'm so sorry for you, sister, that you fell for _him_, of all people..." He gestured to Renton, who put his pistol in its holster. Eureka scowled.

"He's a better man than you'll ever be, brother."

"Really, and how so? Always looking to pick a fight, always poking his nose in others' affairs—"

"He gave me something that you never could brother. And that's a family that loved me." Renton then stepped forward and called out Dewey.

"This is your last chance, brother," he said composed. "Surrender." Dewey scowled and smiled, stepping back a few feet.

"You may be many things, Thurston, but if there is one thing you are not, you ARE NOT MY BROTHER!!!!" Dewey quickly pulled out his TT-9 pistol and shot Renton in the shoulder. Renton gasped in pain and clutched his wound as Eureka's eyes widened in shock at this act of pure cruelty.

"RENTON!!" Eureka screamed. Renton only scowled at his eldest brother-in-law, seething in anger that he could be so cruel and unsympathetic.

"You...you contemptible bastard..." Renton's rage and anger overcame him as he quickly unsheathed his saber and charged at Dewey, looking to end this now. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, TRYING TO TAKE AWAY THE HOME MY FOREFATHERS FOUGHT TO PRESERVE?!?!?!?!!"

Dewey quickly grabbed his saber and blocked Renton's move. "I am trying to protect the dignity of the human race from those who wish to destroy it!!!!"

"You mean…FROM PEOPLE LIKE YOU?!?!?!"

"No…" Dewey then kicked Renton in the face and sent him flying. "...the little upstart bourgeois capitalists like you." Eureka scowled and yelled at her brother, calling him out for what he was.

"You have no idea what you're doing brother. All you're trying to do is achieve a dream that you know will never come true." Dewey looked to his little sister and scowled, pointing his gloved finger at her accusingly.

"And since when did you believe in the things he believed in? Have you learned nothing?!?! Have all the lessons in school been for naught?!?!"

"Those lessons meant nothing to me. It's what I've learned here that makes me believe in the love that mankind should have for each other! Mother Russia could never do that for us!"

"Such an idealistic fool...like husband, like wife. I pity you…"

"No brother, it is you who I should pity. You are no longer a brother. You're just a pathetic monster just like Stalin is!" Dewey scowled and his wide eyes looked to her accusingly.

"You call the Great Leader a monster?!?!" He grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. "There's one lesson you have not learned, my little sister. And that is loyalty." Renton was now back on his feet and saw this grotesque and cruel scene and the hate swelled in him now.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY WIFE!!!!" Renton kicked him in the stomach, releasing his grip on her. She fell to the ground but Renton caught her and he stood in front of her protectively, pointing his saber at Dewey. "We're no longer the learners, Dewey! IT'S YOUR TURN NOW!!!!"

"Stalin never was a true leader," Eureka said coughing, trying to catch her breath. "He's just a coward who uses his power to harm others. He's a nobody just like you are Dewey!"

"Well said, dear," Renton said in agreement. "He's like the rest of those Bolsheviks. Just a power-hungry murderer." He then turned to the Colonel. "Dewey, we're both sensible men. We can talk things out rationally." Dewey scowled at Renton and raised his saber.

"THERE'S NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT, RENTON!!!!" Their sabers clashed again as Eureka, too weak from her brother's choke to fight, just watched as her husband fought with all his might to defeat her wicked brother.

"If there's one thing I can't stand about you, Dewey, it's that you're such a SORE LOSER!!!!"

Dewey's eyes widened and looked at him accusingly with this insult. He grabbed his throat and tried to slash him, but Renton held back his hand, clenching his wrist. Eureka, with the strength and courage her husband gave her, came from behind and kicked Dewey in the back of the head, throwing him down on the ground. Renton then put his boot on Dewey's neck, pointing his saber at Dewey's face. Dewey wheezed out weakly his words from the tightness in his throat.

"You...you can't...do this. It...goes against...everything you stand for..." Renton scowled at the Colonel and spoke harshly.

"You took away my life, invaded my home, and caused nothing but pain and suffering to everyone I hold close to my heart! But you are right. I won't." Renton stabbed both of his arms, rendering both of them completely useless. "You're not even worth putting blood on my saber for. Someone who comes to my homeland and tries to destroy it should be prosecuted the right way. Not put to death like your so-called leader would do." Eureka nodded and spoke her own words.

"Remember this defeat, Dewey. Remember this humiliation. Remember you can never win." Dewey smiled maniacally and kicked Renton in the kidneys, thereby escaping from Renton's grasp. He stood back on his feet and called to both of them the old creed that was dying every day for him.

"No..._You_ remember. How I turned defeat into victory!! How your pathetic cause dies every day!!!" Shot Renton again in the arm, and ran off toward a nearby car. Renton was now on the edge of losing his mind and his eyes widened, with its own hatred and darkness.

"THAT'S FAR ENOUGH, COWARD!!!" He ran after Dewey but he started the car and made a quick getaway. "GODDAMMIT! EVERY! FUCKING! TIME!!!!" Lost in his anger and frustration, threw his saber to the ground and cursed into the air above him. "YOU'LL NEVER WIN, DEWEY!!!! NEITHER WILL YOUR CAUSE!!!! NEVER AS LONG AS I LIVE!!!!!" Eureka, looked to him lovingly and came up behind him, consoling him for what had happened.

"It's over for now Renton." She hugged him from behind. "Please, let's go get your wounds taken care of before they get infected." Renton sighed, seeing how he failed again in another attempt to end the conflict.

"I got to stop doing this...I'm getting far too old for this." Eureka giggled softly.

"You're still young love. But come on; let's get you taken care of."

"All right, Eureka. Dear, when this is over, remind me never to do this kind of thing again."

"I'll tie you down if you even try to hon." Renton laughed and kissed her lightly.

"Good. That's what I like to hear, my little Cossack."

"I know. Now let's go home."

Renton smiled and nodded. He picked up his saber and the two walked back down the streets of Tresoir to the infirmary to get his wounds treated. He knew he will not meet Dewey again. He was finished trying to catch him, realizing he's not worth his time. He knew something more: the next time their forces clashed, it would be the last fight.

The battle ended in a crushing defeat for the Soviets, all but destroying the United Bolshevik Force. Dolgorukhov, the last of Dewey's officers and his closest aide, was dead. All Dewey could call upon now was less than 1,000 men. He took what remained of his shattered force and retreated to the woods and their base, where they had made their headquarters ever since the mission began back in 1942. This was it. The next time their forces clashed, it would be the final fight. Dewey knew now he was finished, but he still resolved to continue. He would win this or die trying. No. He would die. He knew that. And he knew too he would not meet Renton again. That was their last encounter. Of that he was sure. All he was going to see now was his own death. All in the GekkoState Alliance moved north in hot pursuit of Dewey and his shattered army, each man knowing this was a fight to the finish.

* * *

A/N: Insert references to Episodes 46, 47 and 50 here. Dewey is toast now. The next battle will be the last. Prepare yourselves for the final fight. Here is the preview: 

_The beast is cornered, now, as the forces of the Resistance and the Army of the Republic close in around his lair. All the efforts of a year's worth of fighting and dying now come down to this, the beast's last stand._

**Next Time: Endgame**


	34. Chapter 34: Endgame

A/N: Warning: Character death in this chapter. One of the three. You have been warned.

**

* * *

****Chapter Thirty-four: Endgame**

**October 24****th****, 1946**

**Somewhere 30 miles north of Belleforest, California**

It was the end. The end. Dewey knew it. Renton knew it. Dominic knew it. Holland knew it. Everyone in the UBF and the GekkoState Alliance knew it. It was the endgame, the end of a year's worth of fighting, one year to the day when it began. Renton had gone through this campaign with a heavy reluctant heart. He had lost one year he could never gain back, he had seen Jane fall from grace and return to grace once more, he and his wife had their child and a new family to take care of. He knew as well as anyone that this was it, the efforts of a year's worth of fighting and dying and sacrificing for a cause came down to this.

The endgame.

Dewey's force was shattered. All he could call upon now were 850 troops, and many of them were beginning to desert. Their forces were dwindling as he spoke to his only remaining loyalists: the Ageha Squad and a few remaining infantry. In his base where he had planned everything from the very start, he was completely surrounded. The United States Army had cut off all escape routes to the north and the GekkoState Army was coming up from the south. He was outnumbered now six to one. There was no escape for him, but he still continued to fight on.

On the other side, from a large farmhouse, Renton and a few members of his Resistance looked out to the base in the woods, all alone, standing out with its metallic building block look and red Soviet flag perched on the top. Renton looked out from a balcony overlooking at this, the beast's lair.

"So…it all comes down to this."

"The Colonel is finished," Dominic said decisively. "No two ways about it."

"There's no question of that, Lieutenant."

"Shall I prepare the men for action, sir?" Renton thought long and hard, thinking over everything that had ever happened to him, bringing him to where he was now. He never once thought his life would turn out like this. God has plans for everyone, he thought, but never in my wildest of dreams did I think that this would be my destiny. "Chief?" Renton shook his head and looked to his old friend from the army. "Shall I prepare the men for action?" Renton was so worn and beaten he could not even respond to his old friend's question. Then a kind voice spoke,

"Yes, Dominic. Prepare the men. We end this now."

"Yes, Mrs. Thurston." Dominic left and Renton saw his beautiful wife with his young son in her arms. Renton smiled at the sight of her.

"Hello, darling," he said smiling warmly.

"Hello, my dear," she returned with an equal caring smile. Renton tickled Timmy which produced a small giggle from the child. "He's been really good today. No trouble at all."

"Just what I want to hear," he said, taking the child in his arms. "Hello, son, how are today?" The baby smiled at him. Renton nuzzled the child and rocked him from side to side. "We're going home after all this, son. We'll be able to finally go back home, and live the lives we wanted to." He turned back to Eureka, staring into her caring grey eyes. "I guess this is it, isn't it?"

"Da. The end of it. Everything we have ever done and all the effort we put into this comes down to this final moment. I'm glad it's going to be over now."

"So am I…but…" Eureka looked at him with concern. "How will we be able to live with ourselves after everything is done? What will become of us?"

"Nothing will become of us, darling. We will live in peace like we wanted to."

"How will we live with ourselves after losing one year of our lives? One year we can't get back?!"

"Renton…" Eureka put her hand on his arm, tugging at his trench coat sleeve. "…I believe in you enough to know we can get through whatever challenge faces us. We'll live life out day by day. We have a family to raise and that will take up most of our time."

"Honey…I'm just afraid. Do I really have the right to that kind of life? After everything I've ever done?"

"Darling, it's what you've done for all of us that has made me love you! From saving me from my motherland to fighting to defend our home against my motherland and everywhere in-between, I'll never stop loving you, my Renton!" Renton practically broke down in tears when he heard that.

"Eureka…do you…really mean that?"

"Of course I do, Renton. You know that and I know that. I love you, with my whole heart. I will always love you and that's all I want."

"You have it now and forever, my little Cossack," he said as their lips slowly came together in a soft kiss, his lips pressing up against velvet. They broke apart and looked to the base where Eureka's power-hungry eldest brother sat. "I'm sorry, Eureka. We might have to kill your brother."

"If that's what it must happen to bring our old lives back, then I won't stop it. I love you, Renton, now and always."

"And I you." Renton handed Eureka the child and ran his finger along her cheek, tingling her and causing her to smile warmly. "I have such a wonderful wife, and a wonderful family and a beautiful child to care for. I sometimes think I don't deserve it all."

"But you do, my dearest Renton. Nothing in this world could make me happier knowing that you're my husband and the father of our children. That is something that will never change for me."

"Oh, Eureka…" He kissed her once more as they walked down and through the control room, where Talho, Moondoggie and Gidget were at their assigned stations. Gidget at the radar station, Moondoggie manning the radio, and Talho overseeing everything, as she was given that position by Renton for this, the final mission.

"Is everything ready, Quartermaster?" Renton asked tiredly.

"Da, Komandir," she said in Russian. "Everything is ready." Renton sighed tiredly.

"I guess this is it, then. The final mission. Everything that has ever happened…now comes down to this moment." Talho smiled and put her hand on her brother-in-law's shoulder.

"We're with you, my brother…now and forever." In love for her for her friend and brother-in-law, she gave him a gentle Russian kiss on each cheek. Renton brushed away a tear running down his cheek and sighed heavily.

"Let's finish this, then. Talho, you're in control here." Talho saluted her brother-in-law as he and his wife left the room, down to the bottom level. She then turned to Moondoggie and spoke like the firm tough quartermaster she was.

"Moondoggie, what's the status of all combat commanders?"

"They are all at their starting points and awaiting orders."

"Very well. Let's end this. Orders for all combat commanders: Forward!"

"Copy. Orders for all units: Forward."

»»»»»

In the control room, Dewey sat in his cushioned chair on the metallic pillar, above the Agehas and the other personnel sending in tactical information as it came in, the situation growing increasingly desperate. In his mind, he went over how he would come back to the Soviet Union knowing he failed. He would be stripped of his rank. He would be executed on the spot. He would be sent to the gulags in Siberia. He had to fight on, to his death if necessary, since coming home in disgrace, and even worse, surrendering to that boy, that boy who had been the trouble for him from the very start was too agonizing a fate. His mind was completely lost and he was obsessed with the grand illusion that he could still succeed, that some miracle would come and grant him Communism's final triumph, as the forces of his enemy closed in around him. This must not fail! This must not fail! This must not fail!

»»»»»

The bombardment of the base had begun, and the shelling was incessant. In the woods, Dominic charged with his company while Anemone stayed behind, in the last stage of her pregnancy. She would be spared from having to fight, as Dominic pledged to protect her and fight for her. They reached the lines coming closer and closer, the fire increasing from the thinly spread Soviet line. They dropped down into the lines and tackled them, fought them hand to hand, stabbed them with their bayonets, or simple bit them on the neck, the nose, looking like wild beasts. All the while, Dominic let his hatred and rage seep out as he yelled at the oncoming Reds.

"LYING BACKSTABBING MURDERERS! ALL OF YOU!!!!"

A Soviet with a Mosin-Nagant rifle came at him down the trench and the muzzle of Dominic's BAR clashed with the muzzle of the Soviet's rifle. Dominic forced the guns down and hit the Soviet in the head with the butt of his BAR. Dazed, the Soviet staggered back as Dominic pulled out his pistol and shot him in the head, casting a neat red hole in his forehead. Dominic then turned and fired on the Reds coming at them from the front, the trench cleared, and quickly mowed down all the Reds that came in their sight. Soon another fire came down on them however: the fire of machine guns perched on the roofs. Dominic and his company were unable to hit them so they ducked into the trenches, waiting for support to come up. They knew who the support was. They knew who should rightfully end this.

»»»»»

"Holland," Renton asked worriedly as he, Holland and Eureka walked along to a jeep, "are you sure about this?"

"I am, my old friend," Holland said tiredly. "It looks likes this is the end. The final mission, and after this we can all come home and have a big party won't we?" Renton and Eureka laughed.

"Yes, we will, Holland."

"And maybe…just maybe…I might just get you to drink."

"Don't count on it. Eureka would kill me anyway if I did." They all laughed as they reached the jeep.

"Renton, before I go, I must tell you something first. Had it not been for what you taught me, Vladimir and Sister, I would not be who I am today. Back in the Soviet Union, we were taught not to have compassion for those who were not like us. Those who thought differently were supposed to be inferiors and would eventually be crushed. That was what I and everyone I knew believed before you came to visit us. When you came, when you brought what you learned and passed it on to us, I was never the same man again. If there is one thing I thank God for every day, it is that I had the good fortune of meeting you and taking you as my friend. I am thankful I met you, my friend. I would not be here the way I am today had it not been for you." Renton was extremely moved by all this confession, this great truth that made Holland the friend he had known for eight years, brought to tears and the two old friends embraced each other in a brotherly hold.

"Holland…"

"Thank you, brother. For showing me there was a life better than the one I was leading. For saving my sister. For everything, from when you first came to now and everywhere in-between."

"God bless you, brother."

"And God bless you, too." They broke apart and Holland climbed into the jeep and started the engine. "Time to end this. And this time, I will face him myself."

"Holland…"

"Please Renton. Let me do this one last thing, for the both of us. I'm the only one that can stop my brother." Renton nodded firmly.

"I know. I'm not able to face him anymore. It all depends on you now, brother."

"Thank you, Renton." Renton then took off his belt with his saber and offered it to Holland, but Holland refused to accept it. "No, Renton. I will not need that. His kind isn't worth it."

Holland took a Thompson submachine gun from the backseat and placed it over on his back the strap running down his front from left to right. He drove away to the front, and left Renton and Eureka staring off, watching and wondering what will happen. Holland grabbed a radio transmitter that was in the jeep and got through to Talho.

"Talho, listen to me: I want you to provide me some covering fire. I'm going to go in myself and I'm going to take over their base!"

"Wait a minute, Holland!" Talho protested through the crackle of the radio. "I don't agree with this! Don't do anything stupid!"

"Talho, please, do this for me. I'm the only one that can stop Dewey. And you know it."

From the farmhouse, Talho nodded reluctantly, knowing in her heart he was right. She then patched a message through on the radio to other combat commanders.

"To all mortar batteries: covering fire!"

The mortar batteries opened fire and covered Holland as he sped on in his jeep, drawing fire from the machine gun crews perched on top. Dewey, who was on the rooftop, looked through his binoculars and in an instant recognized the man driving the jeep, and seethed in anger at who it was.

"So I see. Renton was too much of a coward to come himself. Instead he sent you…HOLLAND!"

Dewey went back down into the control room, as Holland drove faster and faster drawing the machine gunners' fire as the mortar shells began to rain down on the gunners. Dewey smiled as he reentered the control room and took his seat.

"Give up, Holland. No matter how much you fight back, it is still too late. But if you really want to have a final score…I WILL LET YOU HAVE IT!!!"

Holland drove around to the back entrance and charged for the door shouting, "I WILL DO WHATEVER I MUST TO BRING YOU TO JUSTICE, DEWEEEEEEEYYY!!!!!"

His jeep crashed into the rear entrance and it exploded on impact, but Holland jumped from the jeep and immediately threw grenades into the room which happened to be the prison compound, where he Dominic and Renton had freed all the prisoners and freed Talho back in November. The grenades detonated and the prison compound blew up in a red ball of flames.

From the control room, bad news came in about the damage done by Holland's attack.

"We have multiple level three alerts! Damage unknown!"

"We have no answer from the central control panel!"

"The prison compound has been destroyed and it's on fire!"

Ageha A's blue eyes widened in surprise from all this.

"That wasn't just some random blitz he pulled off! That's just the kind of thing you would expect from the Colonel's younger brother."

Outside, Renton and Eureka looked on at the sight of Reds retreating and many being captured. They smiled, knowing this was the end of this long and costly conflict, and that they would soon be able to go back home. Renton, however, was getting extremely tired of waiting and called up Dominic on the radio.

"Hey Dominic."

"Yeah, chief?"

"I need you to get some satchel charges and Composition B explosives. I got an idea."

"Right away, chief!"

In the control room there was a general sense of panic and anxiety over what to do now. Personnel shouted to each other to try and figure out what to do in the confusion.

"What are we going to do now, comrades?" a sergeant asked. "The GekkoState forces are closing in on us! This is the end!"

"It's NEVER the end!" Ageha A protested. "Not until the Colonel says it is!"

"Calm down, comrades," the Colonel said calmly. All looked to him in a slight shock as he stood up and gave an order that caused everyone to gasp. "All personnel: evacuate the base!" The Ageha squad looked to him in shock and surprise. Their leader, their calm leader, was ordering them to jump ship!? To give up?!

"What do you mean?!" Ageha A said worriedly. "Comrade Colonel, are you abandoning us?"

"No, I'm not." All stirred at his words, confused. The Colonel smiled kindly at his followers. "All right. Please listen very carefully to what I am about to say."

From inside the farmhouse, Talho was bombarded with more and more tactical information coming in, all pointing to the fact that the Soviets were on their last leg.

"Confirm the launch of numerous escape vehicles from the Soviet base," Gidget said calmly as she looked at the radar. "The base has completely ceased all attacks." Talho turned worriedly to Moondoggie.

"Moondoggie, is there any contact from Holland?" Moondoggie shook his head.

"I can't get anything! Our communications are jammed!" Talho looked out the window at the base, worriedly going over in her mind what might be transpiring in the base, fearing for her husband's safety.

"Dear God who is Lord of all," she said to no one in particular, "tell me: is Holland still alive?"

»»»»»

Holland blew open the door to the control room and looked in. He saw tables with radios and radar, all chairs thrown about. There was a metallic pillar where a cushioned seat was perched. That was the seat of the Colonel. Holland, in rage and anger, threw a grenade at his seat, which detonated and exploded and a red ball of flames. He ran in through the smoke, his Thompson in his hand, and looked around. The whole place seemed deserted.

"Empty?"

He then turned and then saw his brother with his icy blue eyes, grey hair to the bottom of his neck, dressed in his Red Army uniform, cape flowing behind him, charge at him with a saber drawn. He jumped on the armrest of a chair and raised his saber over his head, ready to strike him down. Holland quickly blocked this predictable move and Dewey's saber hit against Holland's Thompson. Holland smiled wide, his blue eyes twitching.

"This will be your last stand brother. Your days of murder end today!" Dewey smiled maniacally and stared at him with cold glaring icy blue eyes.

"I'm not ready to lose to a bunch of little kids just yet..."

"OLD MEN SHOULD KNOW THEIR LIMITS!!!!!"

"AND YOU SHOULD LEARN TO RESPECT YOUR FAMILY'S HONOR!!"

Holland broke apart from Dewey and rolled on the floor out of the gridlock, and Dewey brought his saber down on him again. Holland ducked out of the way and Dewey's saber shattered on impact with the hard floor. Dewey lifted up the shattered saber and looked at it with wide accusing and unbelieving eyes.

"YOU MEAN THIS STUPID SABER HAS BEEN FAKE ALL ALONG?!!?!?!?!"

"You think they'd let you play with a real one, brother? Just how stupid do you think they are?"

Holland turned on him and fired his Thompson on Dewey but Dewey ran and hid behind the metallic pillar in the headquarters, all the while cursing and yelling at his misguided brother.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW OR CARE WHAT THE HELL YOU'RE DOING RIGHT NOW?!!?!"

"I'M ONLY TRYING TO PROTECT HUMAN DIGNITY!!!" Dewey shouted from behind the pillar. Holland writhed in anger as he reloaded his Thompson and ran to the top of the pillar.

"You're destroying the Republic! HOW CAN YOU TALK ABOUT HUMAN DIGNITY!?!" He aimed his Thompson down to where he thought Dewey would be but found he was gone. He looked around, trying to discern where he went. "What the hell? Where did he go?!" Dewey jumped on the pillar and attacked him from behind, punching him in the face and sending him flying against the wall.

"I'm sorry, my dear brother. I phrased that wrong."

"What?!"

He looked up to his 25-year-old brother, kneeling down and picking up his Thompson submachine gun. There was not an ounce of feeling in his eyes. There was only that mad lust for aggrandizing power and lust for revenge.

"I am trying to make this country atone for its sins," Dewey said, standing up and aiming the Thompson at the ceiling. "By its atonement, by its understanding that communism is the way of the future, we protect the dignity of mankind, as well as the solemn dignity of this entire world! WHY IS IT YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THAT?!?!" Holland smiled, listening to the words of a madman, seeing that he was not only humiliating himself but his country and his family as well.

"The eldest son of the great General Pyotr Novakov isn't measuring up at all!!!!" Dewey's expression was unchanged as he lowered the Thompson and aimed it at his brother.

"170 years ago, the peace of this earth was shattered by the American War of Independence. Ever since its formation this country has been controlled by capitalists and imperialist stooges, and has sought domination of the workers and the world. Individual bodies were lost in their quest, and human dignity was destroyed past the point of no return. What reason does this world have to live on after receiving such treatment?" Holland laughed derisively at Dewey trying to lecture him like he so often did.

"If you really want to hurry up your own death, YOU CAN DO IT ALL BY YOURSELF!!!!" Dewey smiled maniacally.

"I'm sorry, Holland, but I'm the kind that gets rather lonely…"

Outside, Dominic and Seizo had wired up the wall with explosives, and had Renton on the radio, waiting for the signal. Dominic turned to his radioman Carl Ford and put the receiver to his ears.

"Everything's wired up, chief."

"Good," Renton said through the crackle of the radio. "Then let's end this."

"Right!"

He turned to Seizo and gave him the thumbs up, making that the signal. Seizo turned the plunger and the explosives blew a hole through the wall. Holland was luckily a few feet away from the blast and so only got wounded by some metal shards. The explosion however sent the Colonel flying to the other side of the room. Renton, from his small jeep with his wife at his side, looked through his binoculars and saw this spectacle unfold. Now it was the time to end this. He turned to his wife, looking in her loving grey eyes.

"Hand me a megaphone." Eureka nodded and handed him one in the jeep. Renton walked forward a few steps and spoke through the megaphone loud enough for the two brothers inside to hear. "Colonel Dewey Novakov! This is Renton Thurston, the Commander-in-chief of the GekkoState Alliance! In the name of the Constitution of the United States Republic, you are under arrest. Come out with your hands up and there will be no trouble."

Holland crawled on his hands and knees, still inside the Soviet base, cursing to himself.

"Damn…Renton can get so reckless sometimes…"

"You're right…" his brother replied. "He's quite reckless…" Renton called out of his megaphone once more.

"Dewey Novakov! This is Commander Thurston of the GekkoState Army! You are now hereby under arrest! Come out with your hands up!"

Holland looked up and saw his brother, terribly wounded. His cape was in tatters, his officer's cap blown away, and his grey hair untied and flowing down to the nape of his neck. He was clutching his stomach, a red blotch on his uniform there. He looked out to where Renton was standing, and laughed.

"I don't know what you see in him, brother..."

"I see a future filled with hope, love, and peace Dewey. It's something that you'll never see again."

"Still worshipping the words of Renton, I see. Such a fool…" Holland scowled.

"You're the only fool around here, brother. Don't you understand? You failed. You were a failure from the start and you'll be a failure at the end. Give it up Dewey; it's over."

"Surrender? To you? To him?! You have it worse than I thought..." Dewey looked out to Renton and yelled out. "HERE IS MY ANSWER, THURSTON!!!" He pulled out his TT-9 pistol and shot at Renton, hitting him in the shoulder. "Your little friend still thinks there's a peaceable way to resolve this...how like him..."

"You're just upset because you know he's right. He's been right the entire time he's known you, ever since we all first met him. He has yet to be wrong on the way he judges you."

"How can he be right, when he is a weak and pathetic lapdog of the bourgeois class that runs this country? How can they be right?"

"Because they believe in faith, justice, and the American way of life. And if you want to know what that means, it all comes down to one simple word, one that I know you know nothing of. And that word is 'freedom'."

"Freedom...you think you may have it but you don't...you have yet to see that, brother..." Dewey raised his hand over to the top of his uniform and started to unbutton it. "There is one thing you have failed to grasp, my brother. That sometimes...the lives others talk about are not the ways of the future. It seems the lessons from school have failed to stay with you..."

"You fail to see it brother. How blind you are. The freedom we have here is not even in Russia. At least here we can live free from oppression, death, being poor, or sent to the gulags awaiting torture. This land would never do that to its people like Mother Russia did." Dewey laughed as he opened up his coat exposing his white dress shirt.

"You really think so? I think not. If we really do lose, then your country will become the number one superpower, and you will become no better than what you claim we are. That is the way of power, brother. It corrupts all things and all people. Even your little friend out there..." Holland only shook his head in disappointment.

"I failed you after all Dewey. If that's all that you think you can see, then you are no better than Stalin. Since when did America ever want to use its power against the world? The answer to that is never. We fight to protect others. We fight to help those in need. And when those jobs are done, we leave, sometimes without even a simple 'thank you'. That is how we live here, brother. Too bad you were too dense to see that." Dewey smiled calmly, the words meaning nothing to him.

"No brother. It is _you_ who are dense." His hand grabbed his dress shirt, pulling on it. "There is a special karma embedded within me...to purge this recklessly distorted world from its oppressors and protect its dignity. Observe...my karma!" He pulled at his white dress shirt, exposing a scar in the exact shape of a hammer and sickle, seemingly branded on him, burned into his flesh. Holland looked at it, his eyes wide as saucers in disbelief.

"Brother..."

"By doing this, by accepting this scar, I have become one with the sacred Revolution. My life is this Revolution's life. The two of us are one and the same." He aimed his pistol at Holland, now down on one knee, staring at the Colonel with wide unbelieving eyes. "If you and your friend out there wish to keep resisting, then go ahead!" He then brought the pistol to his temple. "However, I will die together with the dignity of the Revolution! So cry, Holland! Cry, Thurston! ALL YOU WANT! THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER!!!!" Holland tried to get to his feet and run to him, to try and stop him from the insane act he was about to commit.

"BROTHER!! NO!!!"

"GLORY TO THE REVOLUTION!!!"

He pulled the trigger and the gunshot echoed through the woods, decreeing to the whole world what had transpired. The Colonel was dead. He had chosen to do in himself, instead of suffering the humiliation of surrendering to Renton.

"Brother..." Holland sobbed as he watched Dewey slump to the floor. "I'm...sorry..."

Renton, after hearing that gunshot and fearing the worst, ran into through the hole and looked upon his brother-in-law, down on the ground banging his fist on the floor, sobbing. He looked to his left, and saw the Colonel, down on the floor, a hole blown through his temple, big enough for his hand. Renton shook his head in disbelief at what he saw.

"Holland...w…what..."

"He...killed...himself. I...couldn't...save...him." Renton's eyes widened at the sight of the Colonel's dead body, slumped on the floor, a hanging dead stare in his cold blue eyes.

"Why, Dewey? There was no dishonor in surrender..."

"He thought there was. To him, there was no honor in surrendering. He would've rather killed himself than to have given in to you." Renton shook his head at the sight of his dead eldest brother-in-law.

"The fool..."

"DAMMIT!!! Why couldn't I save him?!" Holland yelled as he slammed his fist on the floor. "I should've been able to!"

"It isn't your fault, brother. It's mine. We were too late, Holland. All of us were. Every single goddamn thing we ever DID was too late!" Renton threw his cap on the ground in frustration.

"No, we weren't too late. There was nothing we could do, brother. He was set in his ways. We wouldn't have been able to change him if we tried."

"No," Renton said shaking his head. "He lost the will to live. The one who has the will to live has the will to make it happen. The propaganda was drilled into his head. He chose to die for a false cause. He wished for death. He ignored his will to live and chose instead to die for a false cause."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, brother. I...just can't believe it's over now."

"I can't either. But I'll always wonder what might have been." Renton stepped next to his distraught brother-in-law and offered him a friendly caring hand. "It's over, now, brother. We can go home."

"For good?"

"Yes. Home for good and all."

"Yeah, I think I can live with that," Holland chuckled.

And with a helping hand up and a caring brotherly hug, the two not only went back to their wives, but to the families that now awaited their final return.

* * *

A/N: DEWEY'S DEAD!! YAY!!!! What a bastard. God forgive his wicked soul. For the record he is the second character who was going to die. Now probably you are all on the edge of your seat as to who the next one is. You have to wait until the next chapter. Anyway, the war is over and all can now go home, but the story isn't quite over yet. Here's the preview to prove it. 

_The boy and the Resistance come home in triumph after a year's worth of fighting and dying, and are greeted by fanfare and honor. But there is one last agent of the beast lurking, trying to take one last stand for a cause that is already dead._

**Next Time: The Last Casualty**


	35. Chapter 35: The Last Casualty

A/N: Character death in this chapter. Last of the three. You have been warned.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-five: The Last Casualty**

**October 27****th****, 1946**

**Belleforest California**

They had come back home for good, one year to the day since the conflict began. Now everything was over, all the battles finished, and enemies gone. They could have their peaceful lives now, just as they always wanted. And that was worth fighting for, after all. Their freedom was secure forever, and that was what made the whole fight worth fighting for. Everyone knew the danger of the Soviet Union thanks to them, and now the Soviets would surely be running into stiffer resistance wherever they attacked. Communism would not triumph; everyone knew that. Tyranny would never win. Only freedom and justice would. And that was what mattered to Renton and everyone.

Renton had given his one-room bungalow to his brother William and his wife Martha, and he and Eureka bought an apartment next to Dominic and Anemone's, as did Holland and Talho and Joshua and Jane. They would all live together under one roof, for the time being at least. Talho and Holland would have their child in four months and Dominic and Anemone's would come next month. Everything was coming up roses for all of them, and this triumph topped everything off. Renton and Eureka were just ready to settle down for a quiet rest of their lives when they along with all others received a call from the mayor of Belleforest that their presence was required at a victory celebration. It was their last call of duty, after that, they could do what they wanted. One last public showing, to send the populace a last sendoff before retiring to private life.

The remaining Soviets were hunted down, tried, and found guilty as enemy combatants for conspiring to bring down the United States Government. The members of seditious organizations that joined the Soviets were rounded up and found guilty of treason, and sentenced to death. Such was the end of those of American descent who fought alongside the Soviets. However, there was one last agent that eluded the Army's grasp…

In the streets of Belleforest, there was a girl dressed in a red hood and cape, wearing a red armband a yellow hammer and sickle on her white frilly shirt. She was the last of them. She had escaped from the custody of the United States and was now in Belleforest, ready to exact revenge for killing the leader. The girl had short blonde hair and blue eyes, and carried in her pocket a TT-9 pistol. She would not accept defeat. No Ageha sister would.

»»»»»

Renton, Eureka, Holland, Talho, Dominic and Anemone all stood on the platform, being cheered and hailed by the townspeople of Belleforest. Renton could spot everyone he knew there. Moondoggie, Matthieu, Donald, his pharmacy manager Mr. Lepinsky, Hap Dangerfield, the manager of the diner, Jane, her redeemed friend from Britain, and her newlywed husband, Joshua McArthur. All his friends he ever had in his lifetime were here, here to witness the honoring of their friend Renton Thurston, the hero of this grand venture, the man of the hour, the one who rightly deserved the spotlight.

They were approached by the mayor of the town, who was a big burly man with a handlebar mustache, carrying a small wooden case. He smiled at the couples, the heroes of their country, and spoke, loud enough for all to hear.

"You have defeated Colonel Dewey Novakov, saved the Republic, and broken the spirit of the Soviets. For this, I am honored to present each of you with the Cross of Courage, the highest honor the city of Belleforest can bestow."

He opened the case and presented each one with a gold cross suspended on a red white and blue ribbon. In the center of the cross sat the bald eagle, the symbol of their country. He pinned each cross onto their chests, lining Dominic, Holland and Renton's other medals. He spoke again, holding his arms out to the heavens.

"From here in California to the capital of our nation and everywhere in-between, you shall forever be known as the saviors of the United States Republic!"

There was a large cheer from the crowd as Major Jurgens, Dominic's commanding officer, stepped forward.

"On behalf of the United States Armed Forces, defenders of freedom, and sworn protectors of the United States and her Constitution, I too would like to honor you all for your actions. We Americans now have one more tale to weave into the history of our beloved country: the story of Renton Thurston, the republican knight. Wherever the winds of destiny may take you, you shall forever be recognized as the saviors of liberty, the heroes of our age. But you must remain ever vigilant. For one day, you may be called upon yet again to defend the existence of the Republic from the tyranny of all those who stand against us, for this is the duty, nay the privilege, of every true citizen of the United States of America."

All looked to their old commander, who smiled and saluted the mustachioed officer, seeing the wisdom in his words. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for many years, but some day, the trumpet may summon them again to defeat whatever evil comes their way, and if it meant a peaceful life at the end, then they were all for it. All the others followed suit and saluted the Major who responded in kind. Confetti was showered on them and all smiled and laughed in triumph, their campaign complete, the evil defeated, the stand made, and their freedom secure. The six young people looked out to the crowd and just then a band and choir struck up, playing the anthem of their old resistance, written by Holland and played to the tune of the Soviet Anthem, mocking them for all they stood for…

_United forever through friendship and struggle,  
Our mighty republic shall ever endure.  
The great United States will live through the ages.  
The dream of a people, their freedom secure. _

CHORUS:  
Long live our American Motherland, won by the people's mighty hand.  
Long live our People, united and free.  
Strong in our faith tried by fire. Long may our Stars and Stripes inspire,  
Shining in glory for all men to see.

Through days dark and stormy where our forefathers led us  
Our ancestors saw the sun of justice above  
and Thurston our Leader with faith in the People,  
Inspired us to defend the land that we love.

CHORUS:  
Long live our American Motherland, won by the people's mighty hand.  
Long live our People, united and free.  
Strong in our faith tried by fire. Long may our Stars and Stripes inspire,  
Shining in glory for all men to see.

We fought for the future, destroyed the invader,  
and brought to our homeland the garlands of Fame.  
Her great deeds will live in the history of nations  
and all generations will honor her name.

CHORUS:  
Long live our American Motherland, won by the people's mighty hand.  
Long live our People, united and free.  
Strong in our faith tried by fire. Long may our Stars and Stripes inspire,  
Shining in glory for all men to see. 

_(Repeat last stanza and chorus)_

Renton smiled and a tear ran down his cheek as he listened to the cheering and yelling of his comrades and friends, his brothers, as they all reveled in their final triumph. Renton knew this was the last fight he would ever take part in. From now on his family and his wife were his life now. Nothing would ever change that. Nothing. No more grand plans, no more commanding men, no more fighting, just his wife and children. He was happy with that, and that would be the way he lived his life from now on. This was his life now. That much he was certain. Wherever the winds of destiny should take him, this was his life now, nothing else and nothing could ever drive his family apart.

Renton and the others stepped down from the platform and walked down the street, being greeted from all sides by cheers and shouts and people wanting a handshake, an autograph, a few words of praise, anything.

The girl in the red hood and cape tried to look through the crowd but couldn't see anything. There were too many people. Damn, she cursed to herself. Why is it that these things must happen!? What is it that is conspiring against me?! Is history and fate not on my side? Has our whole crusade been a sham? Nyet! Of course not! Communism shall always triumph! The Colonel assured us of victory! These pitiful Americans cannot defeat us! They can't!!! She peered hard through the crowd and saw something. A hat. A floppy flat cap on top of brown hair. She pushed on through the crowd, closer to the figure. She saw piercing green eyes, shining in the late morning sun, a caring smile with white teeth, shining diamonds that flashed whenever he smiled. The boy, who looked to be 20 at the eldest, was wearing grey trench coat, buttoned and tied, the right side glowing with medals pinned to his chest. She counted five medals in all. Around the trench coat was a belt, a saber with a gold bell guard locked in a black leather scabbard. Was it him? Could it be him? She had to make sure. She pushed her way closer and could make out easily that it was him. The hated Commander of GekkoState. By his side was a dark wavy haired woman, about 17, wearing a pale blue and white dress and a gold hairclip with a daisy her hair. It was the Commander's wife.

_You will fall, Thurston. And so will your treacherous whore of a wife._

She pulled out her TT-9 pistol but hid it under her cape, creeping closer to the boy, pushing through the crowd, getting ever closer to him and his wife. She soon came face to face with him and slowly drew her pistol, aiming it at his heart.

"Thurston, you son of a bitch!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

She fired three times, and blood spattered on her white shirt and everyone in her proximity, but when she looked to see if she had hit her mark, she found someone had interfered. A man had jumped in front of the Commander and his wife, taking the three bullets to his chest cavity, being killed instantly. It was a man in his mid to late thirties, with black hair glasses and a large straight Roman nose. He wore a white shirt and red suspenders black slacks and matching socks and shoes. It was the New York Jewish man. The pharmacy manager. Mr. Israel Lepinsky.

_Dammit! Why did he have to interfere?! No matter. I must concentrate on now, and now is the time for me to make my getaway._

The girl pushed her way back through the crowd, shoving people aside to make her getaway but the man in the trench coat got out of the crowd and ran after her. She ran around a street corner and down four blocks, her cape fluttering behind her as the boy chased her down, down through the street and into an alleyway. The boy she tried to kill came face to face with this girl and called her out pointing his finger at her.

"Who are you?! Who the hell are you?! Tell me now!"

"I used to be called…Ageha A, so that is what you may call me." Renton scowled.

"I know you! You were one of Dewey's minions, weren't you?!"

"If that is how you would like to characterize the late Colonel's former chief of intelligence, then so be it."

"I'll call you for what you are! A murderer and a coward!"

"I don't think so."

"Lose that fucking hood, Ageha. It doesn't help to hide you for the monster you are."

"If you are going to insist."

Ageha A removed her hood and showed Renton the face of Dewey's last agent. She had a young face, looking to be no older than 15 or 16. Her skin was a peachy color, with a young vibrancy in it. She had bright blue eyes and short blonde hair, and wore a blue bowtie around her slender neck. Her white frilly blouse was spattered with red bloodspots, signs of the act of senseless murder she had just committed. In her face there wasn't an ounce of feeling. There was a sly devilish smile, a sign that she was defiant and unwilling to accept facts even when they stared her plain in the face.

"Why can't you just give up?" Renton demanded. "The fight's over. You've lost!"

"NEVER!!!" Ageha A screamed. "We will triumph over the likes of you! We will conquer this pathetic land!!" Renton sighed as he produced his clean polished saber from its scabbard.

"If you're going to insist on prolonging your own death, then I will give it to you!!" Ageha A laughed.

"What can you do? You've got nothing. Nothing but your sword and your fancy self-defense moves. I've got the gun!"

"What you have are bullets, and the hope that when your pistol is emptied, I will no longer be standing, because if I am, you will die."

"And how will that happen?"

"With my hands curled around your neck." Ageha A, seemingly unmindful of his words, produced her TT-9 pistol and aimed it at his head, her hand shaking slightly.

"DIE AMERICAN PIG!" She promptly fired and he began to walk to her, all the while, her hand shaking as she fired her pistol, trying to kill him. Why didn't he die?! Why doesn't he die!? Why can't I kill him?! "DIE! DIE!" He was now a few paces from her, her cartridges almost spent. "WHY DON'T YOU DIE!??!?!!?" She fired again, only to find that the gun was empty, and Renton grabbed her by the throat, lifted her up and pinned her against the alleyway wall. "Why don't you die?" she asked weakly, choking from his grip.

"Behind this veil of flesh," Renton said calmly as he raised the point of his saber to her heart, "there is more than blood running in my veins. There is an idea. An idea called freedom, and freedom is bulletproof. Besides, you kept missing."

He took his saber and stabbed her through the heart, finally ending the long line of sins he had to commit in order to preserve his freedom. Her eyes widened, as blood seeped from her mouth, making a gurgling noise which disgusted him. He withdrew his saber and her body collapse to the ground with a thud. The eyes looked at him with a blank dead hanging stare, the eyes showing no feeling, only the mindless devotion to a cause that was already dead. He sighed as he wiped the blood off his saber with a handkerchief, and looked down at the bloodstained cloth. This was the last blood. The last blood he would ever have to take to protect his country, his family and his friends. He put his saber back in its sheath, and hung his head down, feeling ashamed at himself for having to take part in this, this act of killing, in order to protect all that was precious to him.

"Are you all right, my dear?" asked his wife from behind him kindly. Renton sighed.

"Nyet, not really."

"What's the matter, then, my love?"

"Just feeling very down," he lied. Eureka looked to the body of Ageha A and in an instant knew what he was feeling sad about. She stepped to his side and in an instant embraced him tightly, deeply and truly in love with him, despite everything he had to do to keep themselves safe.

"Renton," she said, running her fingers down his trench coated chest, "it doesn't matter to me a bit what you've had to do. I love you all the same." Renton only wept quietly feeling the pain of killing. How many lives had he taken? How many people had he killed to protect her, and his home, and all the others close and precious to him?

"Why, Eureka? Why do you love me? Why do you love a man who has had to kill in order to protect everything precious to him?"

"Renton, I love you because you loved me! Ever since we first met, I knew I loved you because of who you were: the caring, honest, faithful, courageous and clever man you are now. I love you for that, and what you've done for me and all of us makes you the man you are today. The same man I met and fell in love with all those years ago. And in the shadows of Belleforest, in the streets of Stalingrad, in the fields of Normandy, but most importantly in my heart, I will always love you, and nothing will ever change that, my darling."

"You really mean that?"

"Of course I do, my lubov. I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't mean that." Renton smiled and wrapped his arms around his loving beautiful darling wife, a tear running down his cheek.

"Well…I guess….that's all that matters."

"Of course, my love. Now…let's go home. Home for good and all, away from all this. Home to our family. Home to peace and love, now and forever."

"Home then. Home, now and forever."

He kissed her deeply, her soft smooth velvet lips pressing lightly against his, transforming slowly from a kiss of innocence like they often had in younger days, to one of passion and love, expressing the strong bond they had now. Nothing could ever tear down their bond. Nothing.

A few minutes later, two Army soldiers came to them and picked up the body, covering it with a cloth and taking it away, leaving the two of them alone. Dominic then came by and saw them, turning away in an instant, not wanting to embarrass the two of them. Renton and Eureka parted from their long passionate kiss and saw their friend, and blushed a deep red.

"Sorry to break up this moment," Dominic said apologizing, rubbing the back of his head, "but I thought you should know chief that we got the body of Mr. Lepinsky taken care of. Boy, am I gonna miss him."

"I'll miss him too, Dom. We all will."

"Yeah. The Jewish funeral will be tomorrow. We're allowed to come since we're his workers."

"All right. I guess this is the end, huh, Dom?" Dominic chuckled as he adjusted his garrison cover.

"Yeah. I'm going to having all those wild adventures, though."

"Well, I'm a family man from now on, Lieutenant. No more adventures for me. From now on, my family is my life."

"Sounds like a good plan, chief. Well…I guess this is goodbye."

"Not at all, Dominic. It's a new beginning. It's the start of a new life for us. From now on, it's just peace and love and family."

"Sounds about right. I guess GekkoState will get disbanded though, since there aren't any more Soviets to fight."

"You can't disband a family, Dom. That's what GekkoState has become. A big happy family."

"You're right, chief." Dominic laughed and the old friends hugged each other in a friendly embrace.

"Thanks for sticking by me to the end, Dom."

"I'd do it in a heartbeat for you, chief. I'll always stick by a friend." Renton smiled and they broke apart, happy they were alive and together and on top, as always. "We'll stick together, chief. As a family. Together forever."

"Together forever then, my old friend."

Dominic stepped back and saluted his old chief before walking away and leaving the young couple alone.

"Renton, let's go home," Eureka said quietly.

"Yeah," he said nodding. "Home to our family. For good."

They kissed each other once more and left, heading back for their apartment taking the short cut, while Dominic took the long way. He met up with his wife and his commanding officer Major Jurgens, and they all walked together down the street, to where none of them knew, or cared for that matter.

"At last," Dominic said quietly. "It's all over. And we can finally have some peace."

"Don't start thinking it's all over, Lieutenant Sorel," Jurgens said resignedly. "A soldier is always prepared. He's always vigilant. He's always ready when the trumpet summons him. Don't forget that, lieutenant."

"I will not, sir," Dominic said, with a heavy sigh. "I just can't believe it's over."

"Me neither, soldier. Oh, and by the way, I wanted to give this to you." He handed the black-haired lieutenant a black box. "I wanted to present it to you on the platform there but I'm never really good with words."

"What is it?"

"Open it."

Dominic opened up the box and found a pair of shoulder insignia wrapped in cellophane. The insignia was silver, and denoted the rank of captain. Dominic and Anemone's eyes widened.

"Two silver bars," Dominic said slowly. Anemone turned a wide smile as he turned to his mustachioed commanding officer, who had a large smile across face.

"Congratulations…Captain Dominic Sorel." Anemone gave her husband a congratulatory kiss on the cheek as the Major stopped and turned to the both of them. "Captain Sorel, Mrs. Sorel…" he saluted them sharply. "You are dismissed." Dominic and Anemone returned the salute.

"Sir!"

They walked away in different directions, toward different paths, different lives. One day their paths may cross again, but for now, all that mattered was that at last there was peace, and all could return to what was important: each other.

* * *

A/N: That's the last of the deaths. Mr. Lepinsky, the wise-cracking New York Jew, the pharmacy manager, is dead, and he died saving his little friend Renton. Ageha A is dead, and the violence is over. But before the story's end, there is one more loose end that needs to be tied…. 

_One year after the end of the great defense of the Republic, the boy and the girl return to the boy's old home, and the story of two great heroes of mankind's bloodiest and most barbaric century comes to a peaceful loving end._

**Next time: Coda**


	36. Coda

**Coda**

**November 11****th****, 1947**

**Belleforest, California**

It was a marvelous day, a beautiful day. There were sparse clouds in the sky, covering up the sun, and the autumn breeze swept through all and cooled all who came into its contact. It was a perfect day to be going home to the old farm, where Renton and Eureka belonged.

It was a rather strange and funny thing how it came to this. It was one day when Dominic and Anemone were driving around bored with nothing to do when they found the old farm and saw it was in a shambles, abandoned and almost gone. Ever since that time Dominic Anemone and a few others had worked hard to revamp and rebuild the old farm, making it like new again, just as it had been when Renton, his father, and his brother left it shortly after the crash of '29. The farm was unveiled to the young couple as a present for Eureka's 18th birthday, and they both shed real tears at the sight of the home Renton thought was lost forever.

Now it was a few days after that and the young couple had packed up everything and had made the preparations to move back into the old farmhouse, and start over anew. Everyone who was close to the young couple was there to see them off. Holland and Talho were there, with their nine month old son Douglas. Dominic and Anemone were there with their one year old daughter Hope. William, Renton's brother, was also there with his wife Martha. All were there to see the young couple off, see them finally head home for good and all.

Renton's 1946 Pontiac was loaded up with the trailer carrying all their belongings and the children were in the car ready to go. But he and his wife had to say goodbye to their old friends one last time.

Renton first came to Dominic, out of his usual uniform and instead in a white shirt and black slacks.

"Well, old buddy," Renton said, "I guess this is goodbye."

"Not at all, chief. It's a new beginning, just like you said."

"Still preaching my gospel I see," Renton said chuckling.

"Of course, Renton. No one else I know speaks wiser than you do. And that's the truth." Renton wiped away a tear upon hearing that.

"It really means a lot to hear you say that, Dom."

"I mean it truly, chief. There's no one else that I know that surpasses you in my eyes. You're better than us, chief. You're better than me, you're better than anyone here. You always have been, chief, and you always will be." Renton, moved by his words, embraced his old friend tightly, the two of them laughing.

"You're welcome in my home any time, Dom."

"Thanks chief. For everything."

"It was my duty, Dominic. It was our duty." They broke apart and looked at each other one last time before saying the words. "Goodbye, Dom."

"So long, chief."

Renton moved on to Anemone while Eureka, with Timmy in her arms, confronted her brother one last time.

"You're welcome in our home always, brother," Eureka said with tears in her eyes. Holland laughed as he hugged his little sister lightly.

"I know." A little tear formed in his eyes as he stroked his sister's hair. "It's so soon. You two already have a great family."

"We love each other enough, Holland."

"I always knew. From the day you two first saw each other I always knew that there was something going for the both of you, and I thank God for that. I'm happy we met him. I don't know what would have happened to us if we didn't."

"We'd still be living a harsh life back in Mother Russia."

"You're right. Love him always, dear sister, like he loves you."

"You don't have to tell me that, Holland. My love has been for him ever since I first saw him. Goodbye, my dear brother."

"Farewell, sister. Look after yourself, and each other."

"We will." Holland kissed the baby on the forehead which produced a giggle from the child, bringing a smile to the 21-year-old goateed uncle. Eureka then turned to his sister-in-law Talho, with her own son in her arms.

"You're lucky to have Renton, sister," Talho said smiling.

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Talho," Eureka said returning the smile. "It was our destiny. God saw the love we had for each other, and things took their course as He saw it. And I am eternally grateful."

Eureka and Talho gave each other a sisterly Russian kiss on both cheeks as Renton came to Holland.

"Well, brother," Holland said smiling, "I guess this is it."

"You can come and visit us anytime, Holland. You know that."

"I do. Renton, I'll always be grateful to Almighty God that we had the good fortune to meet. I don't know where I would be had I not met you. I can't see living my life any other way. I'll always remember you, Renton."

"And I you, Holland." The two brother-in-laws hugged each other tightly, sharing short little stories between each other in Russian, remembering past adventures and past trials, bringing them down to where they were now. They were forever grateful to have known and loved each other.

"I've never had a friend like you, Renton. There's no one else I know that could come close to you and what you have done for us. You're one of a kind, and better than the whole lot put together." Renton smiled at that compliment and hugged his brother-in-law tighter.

"I'll never forget you, Holland."

"I don't expect you to. I know you all too well." The old friends laughed as they broke apart from each other and gave each other a brotherly kiss on both cheeks as Renton moved on to Talho.

"Take care of yourself, my friend," Talho said smiling.

"I will, sister. And you're free to come and visit us anytime."

"Thank you brother."

She kissed him lightly and Renton then kissed the young baby on the forehead, producing a giggle from the child. Renton smiled and bid his two Russian friends goodbye as he and Eureka came to his brother, William.

"I guess this is it, Willie," Renton said looking up at his blonde-haired brother. "Man, am I going to miss you."

"I'll come and visit too, brother. I can never abandon the old farm."

"Well…" Renton began. He was soon cut off when his brother took him in his arms and hugged him tightly.

"You put me to shame, Renton. I could never have the courage to go out and do all the things you've ever done for us. You really are a hero, you know that?"

"I'm no hero…"

"Oh yes, you are. Everything you have ever done makes you a hero. Never giving up on a friend, fighting evil in all its forms, always fighting the good fight, and standing up for what is right and just. I don't think I could ever gather the courage to do that. If Mother and Father, God rest their saintly souls, could see us right now, they would both be very proud of you. You've done this family honor, my brother. You've accomplished in a few years what would have taken me a lifetime. You're a real hero, my brother." William hugged his brother tighter, almost lifting him off the ground as he whispered in his ear his last words to him:

"Remember what Father taught us. Don't beg for things, do it yourself. Or else you won't get anything."

"I'll never forget that, William. I can't."

"Goodbye, my dear brother."

"It's not the end, William. It's the beginning. The beginning of a new life with nothing but peace and love."

"You could not be more right. I shall miss you, brother."

"I'll miss you too. Come by to the farm any time."

"I will."

Renton and Eureka climbed into their car and sped off, waving everyone goodbye until they were out of sight.

"And there they go," Talho said smiling, rocking her son back and forth.

"Da," Holland agreed. "There they go all right."

"Oh, drat!" William yelled, holding a camera. All eyes turned to the tall blonde, holding his camera in his hand. "It was my last chance to get a good shot of him too!"

"That's too bad," Holland said smiling. "Well, you'll have plenty of time when they get back."

"You guys just don't get it!"

"What?"

"As my little brother, whenever it came to taking pictures he was always someone who could never really fit within a frame, but he finally grew up enough to jump over the frame called us."

"Renton isn't going to be coming back, Holland," Dominic said looking off to the road with a smile. "Renton's jumped out of the nest. The nest called Belleforest. The nest called GekkoState. And all of us need to let him go…our brother." Talho smiled as she looked to her husband, Renton's closest friend and brother-in-law, who scratched the back of his head, smiling.

"Knowing him the way I do, it's just like him to go off and graduate without first obtaining consent." He looked off down the road, seeing the trail of dust being left behind by the car and the trailer, smiling at seeing things finally coming to a peaceable loving end. "I'll take care of things on this end from now on. Just be sure to come back and visit us once and a while…Renton."

»»»»»

In the car, Renton and Eureka and their children talked on and on with each other about what their new lives would be like back on the farm. What would come their way? What new challenges lay ahead for them? None of them knew, but one thing was for certain: from now on, there would be nothing but peace and love. No more fighting. No more battles. There would be nothing but each other, and the farm. And that was all anyone could hope for. Renton was particularly ecstatic at the thought of living on the farm again. He had many plans for the farm. They would have horses, plant corn, and no one would disturb their peaceful sanctuary. It would be just him, his wife and their family.

"We can have everything back just the way it was before everything!" Renton said ecstatically as he drove on. "We can start planting and we can run the farm together, darling, just you and me and the children. It'll be like old times."

"You think so?" Eureka asked with a smile.

"I know so."

He kissed her lightly on the lips before quickly returning to driving. The farm was coming up on his left. He could recognize it from ten miles away.

"Dad, are we there yet?" Maeter asked. Renton smiled.

"Yep. Here we are, kids."

He pulled the car up to the old farmhouse, looking as good as new, looking the way it was when he was still living there. The two-story farmhouse was red with a white veranda and porch, a playground in the backyard, complete with a swingset and tree house built in an oak that had been there for ages. To the right of the farmhouse was a tall read barn with white stripes, filled with hay and a large pulley out in the front to lower and raise the hay bales. The children all beamed at the sight of their new home.

"YAY!" The kids shouted as they ran out of the car and towards the backyard to play.

Renton and Eureka walked out of the car, Timmy in a baby car seat. Renton smiled as he looked out on the pleasant scene, seeing a peaceful loving future ahead of him and his wife. He wiped away a tear as his wife came to his side.

"At last...finally...we can have our old lives back," Renton said, wiping away a tear of happiness from his eye.

"Yes we can," Eureka agreed. "It's love and peace from here on out."

"I can't see it any other way darling." He kissed her and pulled her close to him, feeling happier now than ever in his life. Eureka smiled, ready to tell him something that would make this day all the happier for them.

"I've also got one other surprise for you my darling Renton. I wanted to save it for this special day."

"And what is that, my dear?" Eureka smiled as she then gently took his right hand and put it near her stomach area. Renton's eyes widened in pleasant surprise, tears of joy forming up in them. "Eureka…do…do you mean…?" She nodded.

"Yes, my darling Renton." Renton's mouth turned into a joyous smile and he cried and laughed at the same time as he hugged her tightly, twirling her around and around in his hold.

"Oh, Eureka…I'm so happy!" Eureka giggled as he set her down on the ground.

"You know I'm hoping for a little girl this time."

"That's what I'm hoping for too. I don't want another soldier. I want a nice little nurse." He placed his hand on her chin and kissed her ever so gently on her thin loving velvety lips, never feeling happier and more in love than ever.

"Oh Renton," she said giggling, "it's so wonderful to finally be home, as a family."

"It is, darling. It really is."

He looked up to the sky as he held her close to him, looking up to God in Paradise, looking up to Jacques, to Paul, to Charles, to Ray, to Timmy, to his loving father and mother, smiling at them in Paradise as they must surely be smiling down at him. He smiled, feeling content and happy with everything he had ever done in his 21 years living on this earth. All the things he had ever done, all the wrongs he ever righted, all the people he had protected, all came down to this one moment of love. Love for his wife. Love for his children. Love for his friends. Love for all he ever knew in his life. Love. Just that word made him think back over everything he had ever done, and all the good things that had ever come from what he had done. Images flooded his mind of all the people he knew, living and dead, congratulating him for all he had done and all the people he had saved and all the things he stood for. Never again would he have to feel pain. Never again would he have to go and fight. Never again. All that mattered now was that he was here, back on his old farm, with his new family, and the future that stood before them was one filled with peace and love and nothing else. He wiped away another tear as he held his wife closer to him.

"Father, if you could see me now!" he cried to the heavens, tears of joy flooding his eyes.

"He would be proud, hon," Eureka said smiling. "You have come a long way in a very short time."

"And I wouldn't trade one minute of it."

"Neither would I."

Eureka then kissed her husband gently as she took Timmy out of the car. The young married couple, with Timmy in Eureka's arm, walked towards the backyard and their family, knowing that they were finally one for the rest of their lives, knowing they had done everything they could ever do for their country, knowing that love and goodness really did conquer all. They could finally live in peace, just as they had wanted to all their lives.

»»»»»

Renton and Eureka stayed on the farm with their family, running the farm together just as Renton had envisioned. They planted corn, bought horses for the children and lived out a peaceful existence. Occasionally they would get visitors such as Dominic and Anemone or Holland and Talho, but for the most part they lived a private life. That was the way the Thurston family had been for most of its history, and such was the way of the Thurston family now and forever.

Renton died on the farm in 2006 at the age of 80 and Eureka soon joined her husband in Paradise two years later at the age of 79. They are now buried together on the farm, beside Renton's mother's grave.

Their eldest adopted son Maurice married a girl named Amanda Stephens in 1957 and became the father of two children: Gregory and Polly. He took over the farm shortly after Renton's death where he currently resides with his wife and children.

Maeter traveled back to Belleforest and married Jonathan McArthur, the long-lost son of Joshua McArthur from his previous marriage. She has led a quiet married life ever since, operating a family run privately owned restaurant.

Linck went on to become a social worker helping the poor and the needy and married a girl named Sophia, becoming the father of three children. They now live in Belleforest along with his adopted sister.

Timmy went on to follow in his father's footsteps and served in the Marines in Vietnam and the Gulf War, rising through the ranks to his current status as a Major and Battalion Commander in Afghanistan.

Eureka gave birth to a little girl whom she and Renton named Faith Thurston. She went on to serve as a nurse in the Army in Vietnam and the Gulf War. She took over the farm with her adopted brother after her mother's death. She is currently married with one son named Renton in honor of her grandfather.

Dominic Sorel and his wife kept their apartment in Belleforest, where they now currently reside. Dominic stayed in the Army, serving with honor and distinction in Korea and Vietnam before retiring in 1991, finishing his military career as a Lieutenant-colonel. Anemone gave birth to one more child, a son, whom she and Dominic named Renton in honor of Dominic's old chief. Dominic and Anemone currently have two grandchildren serving in the Army on the Iraqi front, and all are proud of what they do to protect their country.

Holland went on to serve in the CIA and became one of the chief consultants on the Soviet Union. He retired in 1989 when the Berlin Wall fell after suffering a stroke, and dies in 1991 at the age of 65. Upon hearing that the Soviet Union had collapsed, he is believed to have said, "Thank God justice has finally been served to my motherland." Talho never had another child, her hands and Holland's kept full by just having one. She followed her husband into the CIA and gained notoriety as a successful spy, gaining information about the Soviet Union critical to ending the Cold War. She retired after the collapse of Communism, walking away with honor and distinction. She now has three grandchildren serving in Army Intelligence.

Jane, the "Redeemed Fallen Angel" as she became known, took over Mr. Lepinsky's pharmacy with her husband Joshua McArthur shortly after his death and became the mother of one daughter, whom she named Liza. Her husband Joshua stayed in Belleforest with his wife and found his long-lost son Jonathan who marries Maeter. They have since led a private married life, and are well-respected members of the town.

So ends the saga of an American now departed, Renton Ivastronovich Thurston. An enigma and a hero. A man of high profile, although he preferred a private life. Hero to the pious and virtuous, though quiet in his own beliefs. A man whose friends were few, but cautiously chosen. The crusader. The freedom fighter. The great commander. The republican knight. The true outsider. The radical, with extreme views on how to confront the beast. The man who taught all who knew him the important lesson, the lesson that many take for granted, and yet is so important. The lesson that can never ever be forgotten or cast aside:

Evil is powerless when enough good men stand up and protect all that is right and just.

**THE END**

* * *

A/N: Well… (wipes away a tear)…that's it. So ends this long trail of writing that I began almost a year ago, which has now brought me here, to the end. But behind this end, there is another start. Behind the closing of one book, there is the beginning of another. The trail of a writer never truly ends as he comes up with more stories and more moral lessons to be passed to all who read it. 

Anyway, I hope you have all enjoyed reading my historical fan fiction series. I really enjoyed writing it, taking me on this long journey and bringing me here. I appreciate you all taking the time and energy reading these works as I am sure they must all be a strain on your bloodshot eyes. But truly, I hope you all enjoyed it, and as always, read and review. And who knows? Maybe another story may come from my mind.

Thank you all,

Jordan Harms


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